


Crocodile Tears

by audreyoctopus



Series: Crocodile Tears [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: 71st Hunger Games, Angst and Tragedy, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Hope, Hunger Games Victors, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Johanna's hella gay, Loss, Mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 48
Words: 126,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyoctopus/pseuds/audreyoctopus
Summary: A coward. A mother. An avenger. A genius. A psychopath. These tributes will stop at nothing to go home - they are prepared to do whatever it takes. This is the 71st Annual Hunger Games. This is the story of Johanna Mason.
Relationships: Johanna Mason & Original Character(s)
Series: Crocodile Tears [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054325
Comments: 310
Kudos: 94





	1. Just Fucking Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is reaped, and meets the mentors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to recommend a song for each chapter that I feel matches the theme/feel of the overall chapter. I have some absolute bangers on my playlist so from my ear to yours, here is the first song: Don't Panic by Molotov Jukebox
> 
> Hope you enjoy the story!

**District Seven, Town Square – Johanna Mason**

“The female tribute from District Seven is…” there was a pause as Arabella Boomhaven rooted around the bowl. Selecting a slip from the bowl, she grinned down at them all, her teeth so white they were almost blinding. “Johanna Mason!”

 _Fantastic. Just fucking fantastic_ , thought Johanna. She wasn’t quite sure how to react, and for a moment just stood there, staring, before remembering a ‘what if’ conversation she had had with Eurydice a while back…

She dropped to her knees, sobbing, tears pouring from her eyes and mucus pouring from her nose. Her horrified wails echoed around the courtyard and the crowd fell silent and Johanna knew that they were watching, always watching. Eurydice, standing next to her, rubbed her back and whispered softly, “Jo, it’s okay, Jo, you’re alright.” Johanna hoped that Eurydice had caught on to what she was doing.

When it became apparent that Johanna would not go up to the stage by herself, two Peacekeepers took her arms and half carried, half dragged her through the sea of children and up the creaky stairs, scraping Johanna’s shins as they went. 

Still she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – stand, and to the people watching from the Capitol, not knowing the girl personally, they saw nothing but despair. Heartbreak. Terror. They saw a young girl – surely not seventeen, surely fifteen and just standing in the wrong section – they saw a young girl crying her heart out as she contemplated her inevitable death.

What they didn’t see was the wicked gleam of her downcast eyes, or the small smirk she hid behind her hands, or the snicker she masked with a snot-filled wail. She looked down at the crowd, and Eurydice winked at her. The cry-baby persona hadn't been completely spontaneous, but even so, she was glad that Eurydice had caught on to her act quickly.

It wasn’t hard for Johanna to fool them. She had always been a good actress. Her great-grandmother, whom she was named after, had been a talented actress before the war, and had taught Johanna everything she knew before kicking the bucket at the spritely young age of 97, followed by Johanna’s grandmother a couple of months later. _If those old bags could see me now, they’d both be cheering,_ thought Johanna. It truly was the best performance of her life – not that she’d been in many (any) performances.

With a sigh of exasperation, Arabella turned away from the snivelling Johanna and made her way over to the other bowl, her eight-inch stilettos clicking away with every step. “Elmer Flenderson!” she announced, and someone in the crowd started to cry loudly, louder than Johanna, even.

She recognised the name. Elmer – or Elm, as he preferred – was her age, and they sometimes worked in the forest together. He was very good-looking, and Arabella nervously adjusted her extremely tall hair as he made his way up to the stage, flicking his immaculate chestnut curls out of his eyes.

 _He’s pretty, but there’s nothing below the surface._ Johanna had exchanged a few words with him before, and with every conversation, she marvelled at how utterly brainless he was. A beautiful zombie, and nothing more. Johanna didn’t think he’d be too hard to kill, if that’s what it came down to. He wouldn’t attack her, at any case, she knew for a fact that he wasn’t a killer. She could hear his mother sobbing, much the way Johanna was, only his mother wasn’t pretending.

Johanna only lifted her head when the mayor started reading the Treaty of Treason. She looked at Elm, who was standing stiffly next to where she was sprawled, staring at his mother. His jaw twitched, and Johanna looked away, realising he was about to cry. She caught sight of Eurydice in the crowd, playing the role of the sympathetic friend. Eurydice gave her a small smile.

The anthem started, and Arabella pulled Johanna roughly to her feet, gripping her forearm tightly. “For Snow’s sake, stand up, you idiot girl,” she hissed, digging her long green nails into Johanna’s arm before letting her go.

For a moment she contemplated tearing Arabella’s hair off her scalp, although she wasn’t entirely sure if it was a wig or not. It would be easy enough to find out. _Save it for the arena, Jo_.

The anthem ended, and Johanna looked out at the sea of faces, searching for her parents, her siblings. Someone coughed, and there was a far-off crack as a branch fell from a tree somewhere. She spotted Rowen, but just as soon as she’d seen her sister the Peacekeepers were escorting them into the Justice building. One of them held Johanna’s arm gently, as if afraid she would collapse onto the ground again.

“Come on,” he said softly, obviously pitying her, which was good.

*

She didn’t have to wait long in the luxurious room – the room with items worth enough to feed every kid in the community home for at least a week. Rowan and Bear entered the room, and Johanna barely had time to wonder where her parents were before her siblings had thrown themselves at her, just about knocking her off her feet. Rowan was sobbing, but Bear was silent, as he always was.

She picked Bear up easily, holding his small body close to hers. “Jo, Jo, Jo,” he said into her shoulder, repeating her name over and over as if it were some kind of prayer.

“Bear, Bear, Bear,” she said back to him, kissing the top of his head. Her eyes met her sisters, full of tears, and she tried to stand up straighter.

“Jo. Jo, you can do it,” Rowan said, seizing her by the shoulders and squeezing her tightly, staring intensely into her eyes. “I know you can win.”

Johanna peeled her sister’s hands off her shoulders and hugged her around the waist. “I’ll be back before you know it, Ro.”

Rowan sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I would have volunteered, Johanna, but I just froze!” Rowan was eighteen, but Johanna was glad she hadn’t volunteered, as she was prone to ‘freezing’ in stressful situations – how would she deal with the arena, if she was frozen? She wouldn’t – Johanna knew that for a fact. Besides, Johanna was at least somewhat prepared. She had skills under her belt, she had cruelty, even – Rowan had nothing, and had she been Reaped Johanna would have probably volunteered for her anyway.

“It’s okay,” Johanna said, and she meant it. “Anyway, you’re safe from the Reaping now.”

Rowan shook her head tearfully. “No, it’s not okay,” she cried. “I’m your big sister. I’m meant to protect you.”

“Jo, Jo, Jo,” Bear continued to mutter, and Johanna stroked his dark hair.

“No, you’re not meant to protect me,” Johanna snapped. “I can protect myself. You have to look after Bear, and Mom, and Da. Forget about me.”

Rowan stopped crying and scowled, her features contorting. “What do you mean, _forget_ about you?”

“I mean, if I die, don’t waste time moping. We all die eventually. Anyway, I’ll just come back as a dryad,” Johanna said nonchalantly, hoping that if she could keep up a façade of bravery (away from the cameras, of course), she would start to feel it herself.

“You’re not going to die,” Rowan said firmly. “You hear me? You won’t die.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m _planning_ to any time soon,” Johanna muttered. “But Ro, you have to get used to the fact that we can’t plan everything. Least of all this.” She would try to win, of course she would try, but how would she fight her way out of a scuffle with one of the bigger tributes? How would she bury an axe in someone’s head if they had her neck in their big, meaty hands?

“Jo, Jo, Jo.”

“I mean it! Keep up this… whatever you’re doing, get your hands on a hatchet, and chop some bones. Just imagine it’s wood.”

“Will do. If you promise not to mope when I die.”

“For fuck’s sake, Johanna, you’re not going to die!” Rowan shouted, her eyes blazing. Bear buried his face in Johanna’s shoulder – he didn’t like yelling, even though there tended to be a lot of it in the Mason household.

Johanna laughed, patting Bear’s back. “Where’s the girl who was crying two minutes ago?”

Rowan smiled too, her eyes cloudy with tears that threatened to fall. “She became a bitch who wants her little sister to come home.”

“Jo, Jo, Jo.”

“Bear, Bear, Bear,” Johanna whispered back to him finally. She lifted her chin and looked Rowan in the eyes. “Well then, bitch, I’ll chop some bones and do my best.”

Rowan nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Good. I love you, Jo.” She pressed her lips to Johanna’s forehead, and Johanna felt a lump in her throat grow – maybe there would be real tears to show the Capitol, after all. Bear squeezed her even tighter, and she traced circles on his back.

“I love you too, Rowan,” Johanna whispered, hugging her sister close. Bear snuggled in, happy to be with his sisters. The door opened, and the lump in Johanna’s throat rose again. “And you, Bear, so much.”

“Jo, Jo, Jo,” Bear said in reply, his voice rising an octave. Johanna could sense his anxiety growing, and felt guilty, of all things – but it wasn’t her fault she was leaving him. And that made her angry.

“Time to go,” one of the Peacekeepers said. Johanna recognised his voice – he was the one who had taken her arm so gently, so nicely.

Rowan hugged Johanna one more time, peeling Bear away, who screamed and flailed in her arms. “Jo, Jo, Jo!” he screamed, turning his elf-like face towards her for the first time after entering the room. His eyes met hers, the door closed, and she was alone.

Johanna felt cold, and shivered, though she wasn’t sure if it was from cold or fear. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed, missing the warmth of her siblings already. She hoped that she would be able to hug Bear again – she hoped that it hadn’t been the last time.

“Shit!” said Johanna, and kicked a chair, made out of the finest mahogany that someone in her family had probably cut. She could feel her pulse quickening, the burning feeling in her chest growing and growing and growing until-

The door opened again, and her parents entered. Her mother rushed to her, hugging her close, holding her so tight she could barely breathe, but Johanna didn’t mind. 

There was a muffled cry, and Johanna looked up to see her mother sobbing into her father’s chest. “I haven’t died yet, Mom,” she said softly, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s head, her fingers curling through her mother’s shiny brown hair.

“Oh, I know,” her mother said, sniffing. “And you’re not going to.”

Johanna sighed. She wanted to win, thought she had a good chance, even – but all across Panem at this very moment, twenty-three other families were saying the same thing to their children. Everyone wanted to believe that their loved ones could come home, fooled themselves into thinking that they could – and every year, eleven families were brought back to the harsh reality that their child was just a number.

“Mom,” she said, glad her voice remained steady, “Mom, I might.”

“Enough,” her father said gruffly, and she turned to look at him, letting go of her mother.

“I’ll try, Da, but you have to accept the fact that I might die, the same way I have to accept it.” Johanna laughed bitterly. “I could die five seconds in, and all this worry would have been for nothing.”

He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands. “Not for nothing. Never for nothing. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you _will_ come home, and I don’t want to hear you say anything other than that.”

Johanna clenched her jaw. Maybe she _could_ be brave after all – for her Da. “I will come home.”

“Good,” he said, letting go of her face. “Keep up this strategy. Learn survival skills so you don’t have to rely on sponsors. And,” he hesitated for a second, and Johanna touched his cheek lightly. “Do whatever you have to do to come home. Nothing matters more than you getting home, okay? No regrets. You hear me?”

“No regrets,” Johanna agreed. The door flew open again, and she flung her arms around both her parents again, pressing quick kisses to each of their cheeks, trying to remember how they smelled, like pine, like rosemary, like home – and then they were led out of the room, all too soon.

“I love you!” she shouted frantically after them, and she didn’t know whether or not they said it back, because they were gone before they had a chance to reply.

Johanna bit her lip so as not to scream. Five minutes was just cruel – the Capitol had all the time in the world, but they couldn’t spare an extra hour or to, for people who may never see their families again? _Of course they can’t._ Maybe in the earlier days, the games had been about the tributes, about the rebels, a true punishment. But time had warped the games, as it did to all things, and now the deaths of the children were nothing more than entertainment, their lives short, their talents wasted.

The door flew open, and Eurydice ran to Johanna and pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh, Johanna,” Eurydice murmured, and Johanna swallowed the lump in her throat. Johanna leaned her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder, wishing she could just pause time forever and stay right where she was.

“This is the deepest shit I’ve ever been in,” Johanna told her as they let go. “And for once it’s not even my fault.”

“Fucking Arabella,” Eurydice muttered darkly, kicking at the elaborately woven rug. “Couldn’t she have picked a different slip? Did it have to be yours?”

“It was written in the stars, as my mother would say,” Johanna replied, rolling her eyes.

Eurydice let out a short bark of laughter, and then closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. Opening them, she grabbed Johanna by the shoulders and shook her lightly, just as Rowan had done. “I told you not to take so much tesserae!”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, but not everyone’s grandmother is a Victor,” Johanna snapped, and then felt guilty. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Eurydice said, and then shook her head in disbelief. “You should have just told me! Old Noni would have given you money!”

Johanna laughed, shaking her head. “Have you even met my Da? He would die of shame.” Her father would literally rather die than ask for help – he would never let his family die, of course, but it had never come to that, and if it did he just wouldn’t eat to ensure that they did. There was no arguing with him about it, either.

“Still. Did you enjoy my performance?” Eurydice asked.

“It was wonderful. Very entertaining.”

Eurydice curtseyed, and tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “As was yours. Do you think you can keep it up?”

“Well we’d better fucking hope so,” Johanna said grimly. “I’ve already been tempted to tear Arabella’s scalp off.”

“Maybe save that for when you’re out of the arena,” Eurydice laughed.

Johanna said nothing, what-ifs whirling around her head. “You will get out of there,” Eurydice said firmly. “I need you,” she said, and kissed Johanna gently.

Johanna put her head on Eurydice’s shoulder, and Eurydice wrapped an arm around her. “What if I can’t, Eury?” she said, trying not to crumble – she had managed to hold it together so far, but Eurydice – she could never fool Eurydice. They knew each other too well.

“You can, and you will. You’re smart, you’re fast, you can split logs apart like nobody’s business. And you can act. That’s possibly the most valuable skill of them all.”

“Yeah, but how will I match up to someone a foot taller than me? Someone who could snap me like a twig?” Johanna was hopeful, sure, but it was more like she was hopeful one second and panicking the next – _I can do this! No the fuck I can’t do this, I’m going to die. I’m good with an axe though, how different are skulls from trees, really? Very different, oh my god, I’m going to die. No I’m not! Yes, I am._

“Ah, well, that’s why it’s so lucky you’re an actress. If you seem totally pathetic, nobody in their right minds will hunt you down. Hell, if you play your cards right, they may forget you’re alive at all, like dear old Blight! Please try to get out, Johanna. For me. I can’t do this thing without you.”

“Do what thing?” asked Johanna curiously. Eurydice had been working on a ‘secret project’ with the Victor of the 68th Games, Cypress Li, and his twin sister Myrtle. Eurydice was quite good friends with them, but she refused to tell Johanna what they were doing, and Johanna had a nasty feeling that it would end badly, whatever it was.

“Well, you’ll just have to wait and when you come home, I’ll tell you,” Eurydice said, and waggled her eyebrows mysteriously.

Johanna shook her head at Eurydice’s mischievous look. “Alright then. It had better be good.”

“Oh, trust me – it’s a secret to kill for.”

“I love you, Eurydice. More than anyone,” Johanna said, and she meant it. She and Eurydice had been friends for as long as she could remember, girlfriends for two years now – Eurydice knew her better than anyone else in the world, and Johanna knew Eurydice just as well.

Eurydice smiled, and snuggled closer, resting her chin on the top of Johanna’s head. “And I love you, Johanna Mason.”

“I promise that I won’t die on you,” Johanna told her sincerely.

“You’d better not, I’d be really pissed off!”

“And I would be really pissed off if _you_ died – stop hanging around Cypress and Myrtle, alright? I know Cypress is a Victor and everything, but I swear they’re bad news.”

“Jojo, what we’re doing is important,” Eurydice said earnestly. Johanna smiled at the nickname – it was only cute when Eurydice said it, though. If anyone else called her ‘Jojo’ she would put an axe in their head.

“You’re all going to get yourselves killed,” Johanna said seriously.

Eurydice shrugged. “Be that as it may, it’s for a good cause.”

Johanna sighed – she wished Eurydice was less flippant about this stuff – sometimes it was like Eurydice didn’t value her own life. “Can’t be too good of a cause if it ends up with a bunch of corpses.”

“It’s not going to end up in corpses,” Eurydice scoffed. “I’m not going to get myself killed. And neither are you, by the way.”

“Don’t be dumb, okay? And – look after my folks, yeah?”

“Naturally. You be careful, too,” Eurydice told her.

Johanna nodded. “I will.”

“We’ll get through this, Johanna. You and me, we’re forever, and no-one’s little game will change that.”

“I love you, Eury,” Johanna whispered.

“Love you too, Jojo.”

Eurydice shrugged the Peacekeepers arms off her, and looked back at Johanna with every step. The door closed gently behind her, and Johanna let out a long, slow breath.

She was alone, for real, now. She didn’t expect that anyone else would visit her, she mostly kept to herself, only hanging out with Eurydice and occasionally Rowan and her small group of friends at school, not talking much to the people in her work group. It had always been her and her family – to her, this included Eurydice – against everyone else, and while she knew that wasn’t a fantastic mindset to have, it had certainly proved a helpful one. Nobody knew her, and so nobody would expect her to act a certain way. No-one would blow her cover.

The door did not open again in the allotted hour. She wasn’t expecting it to, and instead spent the remaining time working on her appearance – her goal was to make herself look as pathetic as she possibly could for the cameras.

There was a golden-framed mirror on the wall near the door, and Johanna sat herself in front of it, picking up the poor, abused chair from the ground and dragging it over. She messed up her hair, rubbed her eyes until they were bloodshot and painfully dry, pinched her cheeks until they were a bright pink – almost the colour of Arabella’s caked-on rouge. She poured a glass of water and dabbed her fingers in it to wet her cheeks, and messed up her clothes even further.

*

When the door swung open for the final time, Johanna was ready. She rose, her cheeks wet, her clothes disheveled, and one of the Peacekeepers took her arm. She wondered if it was the kind one – she had no way of knowing.

Johanna looked around, desperately hoping for one last look at her family, at Eurydice, but she was taken out from the back of the Justice Building with Elm, Peacekeepers holding their arms as if they were going to run off. It had happened two years ago – the boy had escaped from them and had covered about twenty metres before they caught up to him. Johanna had heard it from Magnolia. The boy – Cody, his name was – had died in the Bloodbath, his stomach carved open.

At the train station, there was only Arabella, smiling cheerily, and Mayor Lockehart, her face still and solemn, and a few lone reporters, snapping away, looking bored. District 7 evidently wasn’t the most interesting District to film.

“Good luck,” whispered the Peacekeeper holding her arm, and it _was_ the kind one, she recognised his voice.

“Thank you,” she replied, wishing she could see his face.

A mangy brown dog wound its way around her legs, and she automatically reached down to pet it – they had a little dog at home. Cubby, her name was. She was getting on in her years, and they’d had her since Johanna was just tiny. The dog’s fur was patchy, matted, and Johanna could feel its spine. She wished she had something to give it.

“Don’t touch that wretched thing!” Arabella cried, rushing over and shooing the dog away. It scampered off, tail wagging like they were just playing a game, and watched them from a safe distance, head tilted, obviously wondering who this strange alien was and what rainbow planet she came from.

Johanna glowered at her, and then remembered her act, hastily rearranging her expression into one of dismay. Though it was the furthest thing from natural Johanna could do, it must have been convincing, because Arabella patted her arm. “There there,” she said, in a patronising tone. “Soon you’ll get to see how beautiful the world can be – there are much nicer places than… than here.” Johanna wanted to punch her, and from the expression on the Mayor’s face, so did she.

The Mayor stepped forward then, taking Johanna and Mason’s hands in each of her own, and squeezing them tightly before letting go. She gestured for them to lean in, and they did, the Mayor throwing a cursory glance at Arabella and the reporters, (who couldn’t have cared less) before whispering to them with blazing brown eyes.

“There is no point in wishing you luck,” she told them solemnly. “And so I wish for you to try your best, and I wish you – hopefully only one of you – a peaceful death.”

“Thanks,” Elmer told her sincerely, and she nodded at him, before turning to look at Johanna, who sniffled pathetically and didn’t say a thing.

“Alright then!” Arabella said brightly, her too-loud voice cutting through the silence of the train station the way a hot knife cuts through butter. “Shall we?”

Johanna thought it was very rude of her to ask them that. They had no choice in the matter, after all.

“We shall,” said Elmer, and Arabella dimpled, taking them both by the elbows and charging up the stairs of the train.

“We just have to wait for the mentors,” Arabella told them. “Magnolia always leaves her packing to the last minute.”

They followed her like sweet little lambs off to the slaughterhouse, and Elm audibly gasped as she led them into a compartment, full of cushy furniture and elegant decorations. Oh, and tables with piles upon piles of delicious looking, wildly expensive food. They both lunged at the table, grabbing pastries and fresh, exotic fruit and filling their plates.

Neither of them was starving. Eurydice’s family had Magnolia’s winnings to live off, and Eurydice was always sneaking food into Johanna’s house. Her parents didn’t like taking it from her, and refused to ask, but Johanna didn’t mind – she was just glad that Eurydice was happy to share. Their hunger had never gotten terribly bad, not compared to some people in their District. Johanna and her siblings had never been among the poor children, their stomachs bulging with malnutrition, their hands outstretched for change or bread, their eyes wide and pleading. Admittedly, there weren’t too many of these children – but there were enough. Too many. Her parents had always managed to keep dinner on the table, even if dinner consisted of stale bread and pine bark. Johanna assumed that Elm’s family was a similar story, as he had managed to grow to quite an impressive height. For their District, anyway.

But neither of them had ever had access to this quantity of food, and what food it was – decadent cakes, fruit sweet and plump, vegetables crisp and fresh. Arabella looked at them distastefully as they gobbled down the food like a pair of happy savages. Johanna let fruit juice spill down her chin and crumbs fall down the front of her dress on purpose, enjoying the way Arabella’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline, her nose scrunching up in utter disgust.

Arabella was saved from their wrath by the mentors, who noisily burst into the train – actually, it just seemed to be Magnolia. Blight was patiently walking behind her, carrying a small suitcase in one hand, and Magnolia’s much larger suitcase in the other. Oscar Hampton and Jamie Prewett, two more of Seven’s Victors, trailed behind them. Cypress Li never mentored – his mind had broken into little pieces in his time in the arena, it was no secret. He had won the 68th Games, and his Games had been on of the goriest, if that was even possible. Half the time he wasn’t even lucid, but when he was, Eurydice declared him ‘good fun’.

Johanna used the distraction to go over to the window. The little brown dog was still sitting there, as polite as ever. Johanna opened the window and clicked her fingers at it, throwing a chicken leg and sausage roll out of the window for it. It watched her pensively for a moment before trotting over to the food, wagging its tail, and Johanna wished that her arms were long enough for her to stretch out and pat it.

“Johanna, stop hanging out of the window like that, I might be tempted to push you,” Magnolia greeted her. Johanna smirked, before turning around, her face frightened (she hoped).

“Hello, Magnolia,” she sniffled, and Magnolia’s eyes gleamed – she had obviously picked up on the angle Johanna was going for.

“Allow me to introduce you to Blight McCarthy, Jamie Prewett, and Oscar Hampton,” Magnolia told them, more for Elm’s sake than Johanna’s, and Blight stepped forward, looking the tributes up and down, analyzing them with hawk eyes. Johanna had never spoken to him, but had often seen him around the Victor’s Village when she was with Eurydice.

“Good afternoon,” he said finally, his voice soft. Blight had won the 54th Games by being so boring that most of his fellow tributes forgot he was even still alive, which was why they weren’t prepared for him to come charging out of nowhere, tomahawks drawn. Jamie and Oscar just nodded their acknowledgement.

“I will be mentoring Johanna. Blight, you may have the boy,” Magnolia announced, taking Johanna’s arm. “I think it wise to begin as soon as possible.”

With that, she led Johanna out of the room and into another. The train started moving, and Johanna watched District 7 go by, sad that she hadn’t gotten a last glimpse of the little brown dog. She twisted her beaded bracelet around her wrist, glad that she had chosen it to be her token. Her mother had carved and painted the beads, and they were a nice reminder of home, with all their different shades of green.

“What are you doing?” Magnolia asked her, sitting down on a small armchair and gesturing for her to do the same.

“I’m removing the target from my back,” Johanna replied simply.

Magnolia nodded thoughtfully. “You are attempting to seem pathetic so that nobody sees you as a threat.”

“Yes.”

“It won’t be good for gaining sponsors.”

“I know. I’ll do everything in my power to not need them, though.”

Magnolia regarded her silently. Johanna could practically see the cogs in her brain turning. “I can work with this. We can work on your image.”

“Do you have any advice?”

Her mentor pursed her lips before shaking her head. “Not yet - I suppose just keep crying. Make yourself as timid and scared looking as you possibly can when there are cameras around. Your stylist this year is Nona, and she is considered a joke even in the Capitol, so no effort will be required in making yourself look pathetic – Nona is the master of that, which ordinarily is a pain in the ass."

“Why is she a joke?” Johanna asked, curious. To be considered a joke even among other jokes was surely a feat beyond words.

Magnolia chuckled, pouring herself some tea, which Johanna thought was a nice change from Magnolia’s usual straight vodka. “Just wait until you meet her. Now, do you want anyone to know this is your angle? I think it would be wise to keep it between the two of us, but it is your choice regardless of my educated opinion.”

Johanna immediately shook her head. “No way. The fewer people know, the better. I know Elm, but not well. I don’t trust Arabella at all. I don’t trust Blight not to tell Elm about my angle. So no.”

“You do not need to worry about Arabella or Blight. Arabella is a simpering fool, and Blight- well, Blight is just Blight.”

“I don’t know who Blight is.”

“Blight,” said Magnolia simply, and Johanna left it. “Now. Training. You will start immediately.”

“In my room?”

“Correct,” Magnolia said, and began barking out further instructions. “I want you doing push-ups, sit-ups, squats, all that until you can’t walk. I will teach you some more self-defence techniques. You are already quite good with a knife, but I will see if I can have a target installed in your room regardless. Drink this tea, it’s healthy.”

Magnolia, on her sober days (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday) often taught Johanna and Eurydice skills they wouldn’t have learnt anywhere else. Knife throwing was among them, along with wrestling, how to use an axe in ways other than chopping wood, and some form of martial art that she couldn’t remember the name of. It involved a lot of aggressive charging.

Magnolia handed her a mug of green tea, and she accepted it, taking a large sip and scrunching her nose up at the grassy taste.

“What about at actual training? This tea sucks balls, by the way.”

“Go. Learn as much as you can – but make it seem as though you have no idea. Go nowhere near the axes. Check out the swords, bows, maybe a spear… learn the techniques. Fail the execution, although maybe get a couple on or near the target to make your failure realistic. And you’ll have to get used to the tea, you’ll be drinking a lot of it from now on.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if I just failed on every try?”

Magnolia shook her head, tucking a strand of grey hair behind her ear. “There is no failure without a little bit of beginner’s luck.”

“Is that true?” asked Johanna suspiciously.

“No,” Magnolia replied, and laughed. Johanna scowled at her. “Your failure would look intentional if you are screwing up every single time. And we do not want it to look intentional – we want it to look _convincing._ ”

Arabella wandered into the compartment. “Ah!” she said, making a beeline for Johanna. “There you are! I wanted to show you your room, so you can clean up a bit before dinner.” She looked disapprovingly at Johanna’s too-small, too-tight dress and puffy eyes.

Magnolia sighed. “Arabella, surely it can wait. We were discussing something rather important – how she’ll survive.”

Arabella shook her head. “Well, it’s hardly a useful conversation for her, then.”

Seeing the opportunity, Johanna started to cry loudly, wringing her hands and slumping backwards into her chair. Arabella looked stricken, and Johanna thought it ironic – she was an escort for the Hunger Games, surely she’d dealt with crying teenagers before?

“Oh, now look what you’ve gone and done, you fool! I had just finally gotten her to stop crying, and now you go and ruin it. Get out of here,” Magnolia told her rudely, and Arabella huffed, sticking her nose up in the air and stalking out. “Stupid bitch,” Magnolia muttered darkly after her.

Johanna snickered. “Who hurt her?”

“I don’t know, but I do wish that they had finished the job. One of these days I will be sent to a Capitol prison for strangling her with my bare hands.”

“Not if I get there first,” muttered Johanna.

*

The shower was hot – a luxury Johanna had never had before. She came out of the shower smelling like flowers, and put on a long, pale pink dress – to make her seem even more little-girl like than she already did.

“About time,” Arabella said, scrunching her nose, when Johanna took her seat at the table. Magnolia pulled a face at her, and she fell silent.

“Eat as much as you can,” Blight instructed them. “The more weight you can put on before the arena, the better – a couple extra pounds could save your life.”

“I’m used to being hungry,” Johanna told him, and Magnolia frowned – Johanna didn’t know why. “Sometimes all we have for dinner is bark.”

“You eat pine bark?” Arabella gawped. “Surely that would… surely that would make you con-“ She turned bright red, and Johanna bit back a laugh.

Elm smirked. “Give you constipation? Yeah. It does. But hey, at least you’ve got something in you.” Oscar and Jamie roared with laughter, and Arabella went even more red – Johanna wasn’t aware that it was possible for someone to go the exact shade of a tomato, but Arabella was just tearing down all limitations. Including, apparently, being the most irritating human being Johanna had ever had the displeasure of encountering.

After dinner, they gathered into the small lounge to watch the recaps. Arabella retired to her room, still red, muttering something about a ‘very complex skincare routine’ that she had to get started on immediately.

Blight handed them both a small notepad and pen. “Take notes. Write something about each tribute – their names, how they reacted, what they look like, whether they could get sponsors, any guesses you have for their strategy. Anything you notice. Even write notes on each other.”

They both looked at him accusingly, and he put his hands up in defence. “You never know. My district partner and I both made it to the final four, and she turned on me – I never saw it coming, and she nearly killed me. I’m not saying you’re going to turn on each other – but you might, and that’s my point.”

Magnolia nodded. “It could save your life, these notes. I made Blight take notes when I mentored him, and he survived.”

“And I have followed the tradition since then. And you two will as well.”

“We took notes,” Oscar said, gesturing to himself and Jamie. “Can’t say much about Magnolia’s personality, but she does give good advice.” Magnolia smacked the back of his head, and he grinned at her.

Shaking her head in mock disbelief, Magnolia switched on the television, and they all fell silent. Johanna picked up her pen.

 **_District 1_ ** _– girl unusually sullen for her district, might go for typical D2 angle, looks like she could kill people in her sleep and probably has. Boy typical for D1. Seem to be friends or at least familiar – hugged each other when they got to the stage. Both volunteers. Girl 18, boy 17. Both threats, both Careers. Topaz and Lapis._

 **_District 2_ ** _– both at least 6’0, probably taller. Boy could snap my head off my neck with bare hands. Girl looks nasty, and also could snap my head off my neck with her bare hands. Both probably going for the ruthless killer angle. Both 18. Both definite threats, both Careers. Vita and Alaric._

The District 1 & 2 tributes seemed pretty typical. Johanna didn’t like the look on Topaz’s face – she seemed almost bored. As if the Hunger Games was just child’s play. In a way it was, though – the Gamemakers certainly seemed to have fun with it. Both from District 2 did not look like people she wanted to cross, as they reminded her of Vikings, which she had read about in an old and probably banned history book she and Eurydice had found at the Acorn, District 7’s black market. They both towered over their escort, who seemed very nervous.

 **_District 3_ ** _– girl 15. Boy 16, tiny. Both reaped. Atom and Pippa._

 **_District 4_ ** _– both 18. Girl reaped, boy volunteered. Girl is small, pretty, but looks strong, seemed upset to be reaped but didn’t cry. Looked determined. Boy seems overly arrogant, very tall and strong looking but thin too, probably favours a lighter weapon despite height. Both threats, definitely Careers. Marin and Solomon._

Marin was another one who seemed interesting. She definitely seemed like a Career, with strong limbs and a superior kind of air to her, as though she thought she was better than the other, untrained tributes. But she hadn’t volunteered, and she had even seemed quite upset at being reaped – normally the Careers were enthusiastic about going to the Games, or they at least pretended to be.

 **_District 5_ ** _– girl 12, boy 15. Both reaped. Girl tiny. Boy on the smaller side for his age - probably poor, probably grew up hungry so will probably manage okay food-wise in the arena. He could be a threat despite small size. Girl likely not a threat. Eulalie and Cassian._

 **_District 6_ ** _– girl 13, boy 14. Both small, both cried. Hugged each other like they knew each other, possibly did but maybe just scared. Peggy and Evander._

Johanna was pleased to see that she looked incredibly pathetic in her recap. She had fallen to the ground rather dramatically but that was the only part of her performance that seemed like a performance – to the untrained eye, she hadn’t been acting. Elm had cried a bit too; she hadn’t noticed at first. She was glad, as it meant the Careers would likely leave him alone too, despite his obvious physical strength.

District 6 usually wasn’t much of a threat, nor was District 5, and it hadn’t changed this year, for the most part. However, the boy from District 5, Cassian, seemed sneaky and clever, and Johanna had a feeling that he would probably make it quite far into the Games, despite his size. She doubted that he would win, but she was sure that plenty of people thought the idea of her winning was laughable, so she didn’t write him off.

Johanna didn’t take notes on Elm. Though they didn’t know each other particularly well, she didn’t think he was a threat – she remembered that when they had had to dissect rats at school, he had cried his eyes out. And if he cried his eyes out over a couple of dead rats, Johanna was pretty sure he wouldn’t cope well in the arena. She doubted very much that he would suddenly fly into a murderous rage and kill everything in sight, least of all her.

 **_District 8_ ** _– girl 16, boy 14. Both reaped. Bernina and Merino. Nothing much redeeming about them, don’t seem like threats._

 **_District 9_ ** _– girl 15, boy 17. Both reaped. Girl small but looks tough as nails, boy looks like a Career as he seems very strong. About 6’0. Both look like possible threats. Maizy and Scythe._

 **_District 10_ ** _– both 17. Girl volunteered, boy reaped. Girl was strange – she bounded up to the stage and grinned at the boy when he was reaped. Boy looked terrified of girl. Both tall, strong-looking. Both possible threats. Natania and Angus._

The look on Natania’s face was terrifying, a horrible, twisted grin. Johanna watched as she bounded up to the stage, throwing her long ponytail over her shoulder, and shaking the hand of District 10’s escort enthusiastically. When her District partner was reaped, she had cheered – actually _cheered_ – and then laughed like a lunatic, which Johanna thought she probably was. The boy looked like he could have come from District 2, with muscles stretching out his shirt so much it looked as though the buttons might fly off.

“Stay away from that girl,” Magnolia warned them. “I have seen the look in her eyes before, on tributes in my own arena, tributes from past Games, even my own tributes – they were all crazy. All of them up the damn tree. I would bet you my last good bottle of whiskey that girl is as dangerous as the Careers.”

 **_District 11_ ** _– Both 16, both reaped. Boy looks thin but strong. Arvilla and Lynx._

 **_District 12_ ** _– girl 16, boy 15. Both reaped. Girl pretty but scrawny, boy small. No idea about angles, probably the classic ‘I want to go home, don’t count me out.’ Hestia and Colton._

She wasn’t particularly worried about the last two Districts, although Lynx looked as though he had it in him to make it at least to the final eight. The other three seemed pretty normal for their District, although Hestia’s vivid red hair was rare compared to the masses of blondes and brunettes.

After Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith had stopped talking about stand-out tributes – which included all the Careers, as well as Scythe from 9 and both from 10 - and the recap had finished, Blight took their notepads and read what they had written, handing them both back after a moment.

“Good job, both of you,” he said approvingly. “I want you to keep these notes to study, and add to them as much as possible – after the parade, after training, even after the interviews.”

“What’s the point?” Elm asked, drawing a bird on the notepad. Johanna wondered what he had written, and if he had written anything about her.

“Writing things down helps you remember them,” Blight replied. “And you know what they say – know your enemy.”

Elm shrugged. “Okay. I guess I just don’t see the point in learning about your enemy when your enemy is ten inches taller than you and looks as though they’ve been killing since they took their first steps.”

“That’s fair. But I can tell you for a fact that the Careers won’t know as much about their competition as you do, going in there. It isn’t their style to think of the other tributes as people, and maybe that’s wise in some ways, not knowing the names of the kids they plan to slaughter.” Blight took a breath, his eyes downcast, before lifting his head and continuing. “But you two will have an advantage. Observe. Take notes. Think about possible allies, possible threats and even possible targets. Trust me – you won’t regret it. In the arena, anything you can use can be used as a weapon, even – nay, _especially –_ your minds.”

“Knowledge is power,” Johanna said, remembering the quote from her Acorn book, and Blight winked at her.


	2. Nice Antlers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna meets her stylist (who she fkn hates) and makes a fool of herself in front of the entire country, just as she had hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Highway to Hell by AC/DC

**Capitol, Remake Centre – Johanna Mason**

Johanna bit back a shriek as the wax was yanked roughly from her legs, and her prep team giggled. “There there, darling,” said Bacchus, tearing another strip from her knee, “it’ll be over soon.” She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the waxing or her life ending, but she was angry either way.

Unable to help herself, Johanna glowered at him with watering eyes; he must have thought they were tears of sadness, however, as he cooed and patted her head. Johanna decided that she would make it out of the Games, because she _really_ wanted to punch him in the face.

Apollonia and Charissa trimmed the ends of her long hair and plucked her eyebrows, respectively; Johanna stayed silent, not trusting herself to keep her act up if she spoke. Swearing was like her second language, and she’d had to hold her tongue around Arabella more than a few times.

She yawned. They had arrived in the Capitol early in the morning, around 2am, and had been taken up to District 7’s floor for a few hours of sleep and mugs of coffee before being whisked away to the Remake Centre for ‘beautification, and goodness knows you both need it’ according to Arabella.

“It is a shame about those terrible freckles,” Charissa said to the other two, who mumbled their agreement. “If only they were allowed a full-body scrub, although of course that would be far too expensive, as the rest of the tributes would be jealous!”

Bacchus hummed, nodding his head. “It really is ridiculous; we simply cannot make them presentable in three hours – remember last year’s girl?” he said snidely, and the other two chuckled.

Johanna gritted her teeth in rage – the girl last year had been a couple of years younger than her, and had a large birthmark on her face; she had died slowly and painfully, torn to pieces by the Careers, and here these people were, laughing about her face.

“At least this one is at least somewhat pretty,” Apollonia commented. Johanna didn’t know whether to be revolted or happy – she couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or not. She settled to clenching her fists so hard she drew blood, trying not to think about stabbing her prep team in the eyes with a mascara brush.

They were saved by the slamming of the door as it was flung open. A tiny, colourful woman walked in, wearing a cloak made up of large blue and green feathers that Johanna had never seen before on any of District 7’s birds. “I am Nona Glib,” she announced, circling Johanna the way a shark circles its pray, taking off her oversized pink sunglasses and handing them to Charissa wordlessly. “You may address me as Madam Glib, and nothing else – I simply will not allow any silly informalities.”

Johanna’s mouth fell open. She had never seen anyone like Nona before – with her neon green hair, blindingly colourful clothes, enormous heels that did nothing for her height but make her wobble precariously; she was like an alien, and to top it all off with her ridiculous Capitol accent? Johanna now understood what Magnolia had been referring to when she said that Nona was a joke. Her prep team weren’t laughing, though – they had all gone as pale as was possible for them to under the plastic of their faces.

“Stop snivelling, girl, we can’t have any of that during the parade – it will ruin your makeup. Skinny, too skinny to be attractive. Freckles – ugh, another one with freckles? My goodness. What is this, a bruise?” she asked, grabbing Johanna’s forearm and bringing it closer to her face.

“A birthmark,” Johanna said, and Nona scrunched her nose.

“Ugh,” she said, circling. “Could be taller.” At this comment, Johanna tried not to laugh. The woman was about four eleven with heels, and had the audacity to say that _Johanna_ could be taller? “Beautiful hair – so shiny, you must tell me the products you use, girl. Now, have you three measured her yet?” she asked the prep team, who nodded. Apollonia hurried to fetch a sheet of paper, which she handed to Nona, who snatched it from her hands so quickly Johanna was amazed it didn’t catch on fire.

“Alterations, such alterations to be made! We must hurry!” she told the prep team, who fled from the room to fetch the costume, presumably. Nona stared at Johanna, her eyes an unnaturally bright green. “I suppose it doesn’t matter too much,” she stated after a while.

Johanna burst into tears, and Nona tutted. “Stop that immediately! You have given me absolutely nothing to work with, girl!”

Anger flared in Johanna’s chest, and she clenched her fists and raised her sobs to wails. She was so busy crying that she didn’t notice the prep team arriving with her costume, or lack thereof.

“About time!” Nona snapped at them. “Stand up, girl, or I’ll send you out as you are, as naked as the day you were born.”

When Johanna caught sight of the costume, she thought it wasn’t such a bad idea.

0o0o

An hour later, Johanna was half-naked, with bundles of leaves covering her most private of places. Her hair was entwined around a headdress meant to look like elegant branches, but instead it gave her the look of a deranged moose. Her face was painted in garish colours – thick eyeliner that made her eyes look as though they had wings, bright red lipstick that made her look as though she’d painted her lips with blood, and glittery green eyeshadow that did not represent any shade of green Johanna had seen in the forests. The only part of her costume she liked was the blood-red lipstick - it was fierce. 

“There!” Nona had said with satisfaction, and stepped back as though she were admiring a great masterpiece. Bacchus and Charissa were biting back giggles, which endeared them a bit more to Johanna; Apollonia, on the other hand, was looking at Nona with an expression of awe.

“In Snow’s name, girl, if you start to cry I will break into the arena and kill you myself,” Nona hissed as she pushed Johanna towards the chariot.

Elm was dressed similarly, makeup included, except he didn’t have bundles of twigs on his chest like she did. He grimaced when he saw her, and she frowned at him. “Don’t we look…” Elm began, and started to laugh.

Johanna bit back a grin. “We look horrifying,” she said, letting her voice tremble, and he nodded in agreement, barely concealed pity on his face.

“Nice antlers,” he told her, nodding at the headpiece.

“And you.”

Johanna started the waterworks the moment Nona left her sight, lest she try to fix the makeup that was currently running down Johanna’s face and dripping onto her chest in colourful rivulets. Elm noticed and grimaced at her, but not saying anything – probably hoping that he would get all the sponsors to himself, if anyone was foolish enough to sponsor them at all.

District 4 looked particularly amazing – the tributes were dressed as mermaids, covered in glittery scales, the girl wearing a bra made of shells. Seaweed was elegantly twined into their hair, but tastefully. The boy was holding a trident, and was pretending to defend the mermaid from the crowd as she blew kisses like they were nobody’s business. “Marin!” the crowd cried. “Solomon!”

 _Perfect,_ thought Johanna. She caught sight of herself on the screen – there were long, black tear tracks on her face, her lipstick was smudged, her eyes wide. She let out a howl as she caught sight of herself, and she heard someone bark out a shout of laughter in the crowd before her face faded from the screen, Marin’s beautiful features taking her place. Johanna was a shadow.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

0o0o

Arabella couldn’t even look at them when they arrived back at their quarters, after the makeup had been removed and they had changed into actual clothes. “There is not even a smidge of a chance that anyone will sponsor you,” she told them, shaking her head in dismay. “Not a single smidge.”

Johanna covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Elm patted her on the back awkwardly. “Surely there’ll be someone, though?” he said desperately. “We can fix this!”

Johanna felt a bit guilty. Elm would suffer for the choices she was making – he could probably get a few sponsors, with his good looks, but people would be hesitant to sponsor their District at all, as Johanna’s odds were currently the lowest of all the tributes at 500-1. Elm’s were much better than hers at 60-1, but without sponsors, well, what if he got injured, or was starving to death, or had nothing to defend himself with? What then?

“Leave the worrying to us, Elm,” Blight said soothingly, clapping the boy on the back. “It’s my job to get you sponsors – it’s your job to come out alive.” Elm nodded, his jaw tensing, but stayed silent. “Now. Get your notepads and be back here in ten minutes.”

Johanna quickly ran a brush through her hair before grabbing her notes and arriving back in the lounge, where the mentors were already waiting. Magnolia wordlessly handed her a mug of green tea, which she took, ignoring Blight’s ever-curious eyes on her. It would only be a matter of time before he figured out what she was doing – would he tell Elm? Would Elm realise she was a threat, and take her down? And if Elm knew, how long would it be before the other tributes found out?

“Remember what I said on the train,” said Blight to them both, when Elm arrived in the lounge. Johanna tried to shake the paranoid thoughts from her head – she needed to focus.

They both nodded at him, eyes on the screen, pens in hand.

The District 1 tributes were as beautiful as ever, draped in silk, dripping with diamonds. The girl, Topaz, was much darker than was usual for her district, with creamy brown skin and dark, curly hair. Her eyes, however, were the shade of emerald green that was so common for her district. The commentators called her ‘exotic’ and Johanna wondered if she had ancestors from District 11. The boy was the typical smirking blonde, with clear green eyes and fluffy golden hair.

Vita and Alaric of District 2 were dressed in cloth that looked like steel, their faces painted with what looked like blood. The boy was pounding his chest and yelling, the girl had her arms raised high above her head, teeth bared, as Enobaria Spiteri was so famous for doing. The audience, predictably, loved them.

District 3 passed without much comment, but District 4, predictably, had the commentators gushing. Johanna didn’t like the look in Marin’s eyes – pure determination. With her lean, muscular arms and that steely look on her face, Johanna wouldn’t be surprised if she made it to the final four. Johanna could only hope that, if she was even still alive by then, it wouldn’t be down to the two of them. She didn’t know if she’d last in a fight against the girl from 4 – Johanna would bet anything that she had been trained.

Surprisingly, District 5 looked better than they usually did. Copper wire was twined around the tributes, their whole bodies shimmering with some sort of paint. But most stunning of all were the crowns on their heads – copper, like the wire, and crackling with electricity, sparks flying all over them, raining down their small bodies like droplets of fiery water. “Wouldn’t that hurt?” Elm asked.

Magnolia shook her head. “They have Portia and Arien this year – Portia has done things like this before, she knows what she’s doing. I would say the sparks are just holograms, which is a specialty of Arien.”

Their District passed without much comment, as did District 6’s pair, who were dressed as the usual railway workers. The only other standout was District 9, surprisingly, whose tributes were adorned with strings of golden grain, and tastefully embroidered silk that was the same bright yellow of corn.

“Well, that’s that,” Magnolia said, switching off the television.

“We’re never going to get any sponsors,” Elm said bitterly. “How can we compare to Four? Five, even?”

Blight cleared his throat, and Elm swiveled his head to look at him. “I though I told you to leave to worrying to Magnolia and myself. We will handle it, Elm, it’s not for you to worry about.”

“One of the few perks of being a Victor is having contacts. I know some very powerful people, as does Blight,” Magnolia told them. “Even if you two aren’t the most impressive of tributes, I have people that owe me favours. I can cash them in whenever I want to.”

“What did you do?” Johanna asked, and all heads turned to look at her. She pretended to be embarrassed, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with her hands. “To earn the favours?”

There was a small silence, and Johanna wondered if she’d said the wrong thing, before Magnolia spoke again. “That is none of your concern.”

Hearing the warning in Magnolia’s voice, Johanna left it, although she was curious as to what Magnolia had done.

0o0o

After dinner, Magnolia pulled Johanna aside. “You are doing well. Very convincing. Although –“ she hesitated.

“Tell me,” Johanna demanded.

“There will be some extremely tough competition for sponsors this year. The Careers, obviously, but especially Four – even Five and Nine will most likely earn some, after their debut at the parade.”

“And?”

“And so it will be even harder to convince my… friends to sponsor you. I thought we would be able to get you a few, because as I said I am owed favours, but with the rest of the tributes? There is not much chance.”

Johanna shrugged. “I already knew I wasn’t going to get many, if any. I don’t get why it’s such a huge problem now.”

“You do know what this means, though, do you not? I will not be able to help you when you’re in the arena. At all, from the way it’s looking.”

Johanna shrugged. “I signed myself up for this the moment I became a whiny little bitch at the Reaping. I’ll deal with it.”

Magnolia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Very well. But you must spend even more time at the first-aid and plants stations – if you get injured, you’re done for. If you’re starving, I cannot help you.”

“Okay, I got it!” Johanna said, waving a hand around in annoyance. Did Magnolia really need to say it a hundred times? “You can’t help me. If I get sick, I’m dead, if I get hurt, I’m dead, if I get hungry, I’m dead. Can we please move on now, unless you’d like to remind me one more time that you can’t do anything to help me?”

Magnolia scowled, and a pang went through Johanna – she had seen that very expression on Eurydice’s face more than a few times. It had never truly struck Johanna before just how much Eurydice resembled her grandmother, but she couldn’t stop noticing it now and whenever she saw her elderly mentor, she saw Eurydice looking back at her.

Johanna turned away. “I’m going to bed.” Without another word, Johanna left the room, wondering once more if she could manage this – _will I ever see Eurydice again?_


	3. Marin: Paper Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marin proves herself to her allies, and makes two unusual friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Sweetie Little Jean by Cage the Elephant

**Capitol, Training Centre: Marin Callahan, District Four**

“Mags told us to be friendly, remember?” Solomon told her, poking her in the ribs. She squirmed away from her friend, trying not to scowl – somehow she though that scowling would probably ruin any chance she had of appearing friendly. And she knew that she _needed_ to seem friendly.

“I remember, Sol, she told us literally fifteen minutes ago. I’m not a goldfish.”

Solomon shrugged. “I was just checking.”

The elevator stopped, and Marin took a deep breath, fighting her nerves. Solomon linked his arm through hers, and she smiled at him, grateful for his easy-going nature. “It’s going to be okay, you know? Just stick with me.”

“What if I don’t get accepted into the alliance?” she asked, gnawing on her bottom lip.

She wasn’t a volunteer, like the rest of the Careers were, and she hadn’t trained since she’d had Minnow. She didn’t think she’d have to – Leilani was meant to volunteer this year. And since Marin had thought she was safe, as it was her last year in the Reaping, she’d taken out a ton of tesserae to keep her little family going – she and her sister Delmare had been working non-stop after their parents died in a storm while out on the fishing boat. It was harder, too, because when Minnow was born, Marin had to take a lot of time off from school, work and training to care for her. Obviously, she had removed her name from the list of volunteers, and Leilani was meant to take her place, but she hadn’t – and now Marin was here, in some twisted turn of events.

“You will,” Solomon told her, and the look of confidence on his face calmed Marin a little. “Just show them what you can do with a dagger and they won’t think twice.”

Marin nodded, and he ruffled her hair. She’d been friends with Solomon ever since they’d started training together when they were both ten. She knew all his moves, his skills and his weaknesses, which would be helpful if it came down to just the two of them – she hoped it wouldn’t. It would be like killing her brother.

They joined the huddle of tributes, making their way over to the pair from One. District Two hadn’t arrived yet, it seemed, and Marin was secretly relieved – Two was usually the leader of the Career pack, and she was glad she would get to spend a couple of minutes at least with the rest of the alliance before they showed up. Their mentors had told them to make friends – “It could mean the difference between life and death, a friend,” Finnick had told them. She didn’t dare question him; if he had gotten out of the arena at fourteen, surely she could do it at eighteen.

“Morning,” said the boy, lifting a hand in greeting. “I’m Lapis.”

“Topaz,” the girl said, offering Marin a small smile. Marin relaxed a bit, and stuck out a hand, which Topaz shook.

“Marin,” she said, as warmly as she could. “This is Solomon.”

Solomon bowed, and the four of them laughed. “Greetings,” he said cheerfully. “Well, this should be fun. Allies, I presume?”

“That depends on what you can do, Four,” said a voice from behind them. Marin whirled around, glad she hadn’t jumped – that wouldn’t have made a good first impression.

The pair from Two towered over her, and Marin wondered if the two of them were somehow related – their height, their dark hair, their steely blue eyes – they had to be at least cousins.

“I’m Vita,” the girl said, stepping forward, offering no smile and no hand for them to shake.

“Alaric,” said the boy, similarly cold; he, however, shook all their hands. He gripped Marin’s hand tightly, and she tried not to shudder - this boy could snap her neck one-handed without taking a single breath.

The awkward introduction was thankfully cut short by the arrival of a woman named Atala, who went over the rules and what their expected behaviour was. Marin didn’t see why their behaviour mattered too much; she understood, of course, why they couldn’t be hurting each other before the arena, but did manners really matter? She didn’t think so.

Atala dismissed them, and Marin stuck by Solomon, who put an arm around her. Vita eyed her suspiciously, and Marin didn’t say anything, gladly letting Solomon and Topaz do all the talking.

“Who says you’re in the alliance, Four?” Vita asked, looking her up and down. Marin felt herself go red, but straightened up, trying to look as confident as possible.

“Who says I’m not?” she challenged, and Vita’s face darkened. _Oh, no, did I sound too defensive?_

“Well, as far as I know, you’re not a Career. You didn’t volunteer. And a pretty face doesn’t mean you’ve got skill.”

Marin smiled, trying to look as though she wasn’t shaken. “My pretty face will earn me more than a few sponsors – and that means more money in the alliance account. And you haven’t seen what I can do yet – I’m more than willing to show you.” There was a silence, so she continued, trying to seem cool and collected. “I was planning on volunteering. A couple of years ago. But then I had a… well, I have my reasons, and another girl said she would, but she didn’t – and I took a lot of tesserae. I thought it was safe to. And I mean a _lot_ of tesserae – my name had to be in that bowl at least a hundred times.”

She was talking too much, oh god, they would think she was a blubbering mess. But Vita merely raised her eyebrows, and gestured around her at the weaponry stations. “Well, go on then, Four, don’t be shy. Show us what you can do.”

Solomon gave her shoulder an encouraging pat, and Marin nodded at him, grateful for his support.

She took a deep breath. She was a bit out of shape – having a baby would do that to you. But she knew her stuff – she was confident in her skills.

She went over to the sword-fighting station, and addressed the trainer. He was tall, about Alaric’s height, but didn’t have the same huge, rippling muscles. But he was toned, and muscular enough that if Marin defeated him, the Careers would be impressed. “If you attack me with a sword, can I use a dagger?”

“Sure. No real stabbing, though,” said the man at the station.

Marin tried not to roll her eyes – did he think she was stupid? “That went without saying.”

The trainer shrugged. “You’d be surprised. Shall we?” he said, and handed her a dagger. She took it – it was a similar weight and shape to the ones they had at home, which was good. Familiar was good.

She got into the fighting stance, clutching the dagger in her right hand, and the instructor nodded at her once before lunging forward, sword raised. She ducked under his arm, and whirled around behind him, delivering a swift series of kicks – one, two, three – to his chest and abdomen, making several slicing motions with her dagger, centimetres in front of his chest, before kicking him square in the stomach. He gasped, winded, and she darted around his arms, ducking under his sword and stabbing, purposefully leaving several centimetres between her blade and his body. He landed a sharp kick to her stomach, and she let out a sharp squeal, just barely dodging his sword swinging towards her face. She dodged again, and feinted to the left before winding around his right side, hands raised. She leapt onto his back and kicked the back of his knees, using all her weight to tip his balance until he was on the floor, with Marin sitting on his chest, her dagger held to his throat, her left leg pinning down his sword arm.

Solomon applauded, and the pair from One smiled at her – Vita, however seemed unimpressed, and Marin had no idea what the quiet Alaric was thinking. “Very nice, Four, very nice indeed. But one mistake and you’re out. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” she replied quietly. Vita narrowed her eyes, and Marin made a mental note to avoid the girl from 2. Which may be hard, as they were in the same alliance and everything, but she would give Vita a wide berth regardless.

Topaz cleared her throat. “We should go to plants,” she suggested.

Vita scoffed. “Why would we do that?”

“Well, you never know,” Topaz said, obviously also nervous around Vita. “We’re the Careers, yes, but there are several other tributes that will probably get a lot of sponsors. I mean, have you seen that boy from Ten? Or even the boy from Nine?”

“She has a point, you know,” Solomon said. “Remember the Sixty-Sixth? There was no food at the Cornucopia. The Careers got food sent to them at first, but everyone knows things get more expensive as time goes on.”

Vita sneered at him, and he narrowed his eyes back at her, his usually friendly demeanour slipping. “Who’s to say you’ll even be around by the time shit gets expensive, Four?” Solomon shot her a glare, but she didn’t react.

“Vita,” Alaric said quietly. They all turned to look at him; the huge boy from 2 had said barely anything to them since their introduction, and though his voice was soft, it commanded attention. And attention was what he got; even Vita kept her mouth shut. “I don’t think it’s wise of you to make enemies within the alliance. You never know when your allies might turn on you; haven’t you learnt that yet?”

Vita visibly paled, and Marin gulped – there was obviously more to the boy from Two than he was willing to show them, and though she respected that, she also feared it – who knew what secrets he had in the head of his? She had recognised the threat veiled in Alaric’s words, and from the looks on their faces, so had the rest of the alliance. Solomon gave her a grim look – so it was going to be one of _those_ years. One of the years when you couldn’t trust your own allies.

“How about we spend thirty minutes at plants, and then we go to weapons,” Lapis jumped in, eager to diffuse the steadily boiling tension within the group. Marin decided that she like the pair from One – they were cheerful, unusually friendly compared to past tributes. She wondered how much of their friendliness was for show – she wondered if she could trust them or not.

 _For now,_ she decided, _for now, the only one I trust is Sol._

0o0o

The plants didn’t give them much clue as to what the arena could be – Marin had looked for clues, and she guessed from the plants that it was some sort of forest, but that told her next to nothing, as the most common biome for an arena was a forest. She didn’t recognise any of the plants to be from home, so it was probably leaning towards the colder side.

“Any ideas?” she asked Solomon, who shook his head. Their mentors had told them to remember anything they could, think as much as they could. “The clues are always there,” Mags had said to them the night before, but so far Marin hadn’t found any.

“What are you two whispering about?” Topaz asked, sidling up to them.

Marin smiled at her, and she returned it. “Just wondering what the arena could be.”

“Oh. Yeah, I got nothing. Some sort of forest, I’m guessing, but that isn’t super helpful.”

“That’s what we thought,” Solomon said, elbowing Marin, who shoved him back. Topaz raised an eyebrow at them.

“You two are very… _cosy,_ ” she said, smirking. “Should we keep you in different tents?”

Solomon burst out laughing, and Marin elbowed him again – the last thing they needed was to annoy _another_ ally. “God no,” Marin said. “Not so say that Sol isn’t attractive, of course, it’s just…”

“I play for the other team,” he smirked, and pointedly eyed Lapis’ behind. Topaz’s eyes grew wide in understanding, and she joined in on their laughter, much to Marin’s relief.

“Oh to be a boy,” Topaz sighed dramatically, putting a hand to her head as though she was swooning. Marin giggled – as much as she tried, she couldn’t help but like the girl from One.

0o0o

“Threats?” Lapis asked the group as they sat to eat lunch. “Targets?”

“Ten, both of them,” Solomon said. Marin nodded along with him.

“The boy from nine looks pretty nasty, too,” Topaz said, dipping a chunk of bread into her pumpkin soup.

“What about the boy from Seven?” Vita said. “He looks strong.”

Lapis snickered. “If he’s anything like his district partner, we don’t need to worry about him.”

Vita smirked. “Wonder how many times she’s wet the bed since she got here.” The girl from seven was sitting alone on the other side of the cafeteria. Vita sneered at her, and the girl – June? Joanne? Julia? - chose that moment to look up at them, and started to cry into her bowl. All six of them laughed at her, even Alaric, although Marin felt a bit guilty about joining in – not that she would ever admit that.

“Wonder how long she’ll last?” Topaz said snidely, a cruel smile playing on her delicate features.

“Long enough to shit herself, I bet,” Vita replied, and they laughed again – although Marin felt a bit sick. She was a Career, sure, but she didn’t think it was very tasteful to laugh at a girl who would probably be dead in a week’s time.

“Boy from Five?” Marin piped up, wanting to steer the conversation in a different direction. They all looked at her, except Alaric, who had already made it very clear that he found his allies about as interesting as he found the Capitol’s fashion trends.

“Why the boy from Five?” Topaz asked, tilting her head to the side.

Marin shrugged, uncomfortable at the attention she was getting from her formidable allies. “I don’t know. He seems smart. And I saw him talking to the kids from Nine.”

Solomon let out a long exhale. “You reckon there could be another alliance?”

“I don’t know,” Marin said, shrugging again. “It’s possible. I just thought that if you pair Five’s brains with Nine’s brawn, we’ve got ourselves a bit of trouble.”

Vita rolled her eyes. “We don’t even know that there’s an alliance, Four, calm your tits.”

Marin tried not to scowl – she desperately wanted to put Vita in her place, but she had seen the girl’s skill with a longbow, and she didn’t really fancy becoming a human skewer the second she set foot into the arena. She knew that she was already at a disadvantage, being the only non-volunteer, and she was determined not to make any more trouble. “I know it’s not definite. I was just saying maybe.”

“She’s got a point, though,” Topaz said, and Marin sent a telepathic _thank-you_ in her direction. “We have to consider everything. Cashmere said that in her Games, an outer-district alliance nearly took down the Careers – we have to be careful.”

Vita shrugged, as though it didn’t really matter, but Marin could see the displeasure written on her face. “Okay. I’ll mention it to Enobaria.”

0o0o

Marin and Solomon got into the elevator with the pair from Five. The girl shook like a leaf and tried not to look at them, but the boy seemed to be analysing them with those clever eyes of his.

“Hey,” Solomon said to the girl, who squeaked. “It’s okay.” It was not okay, and Marin didn’t know why he’d say that – they all knew that things were very obviously not okay.

She was a tiny thing, and a pang went through Marin. She’d always thought that the Games were sick, but even more so after she’d had Minnow – and this slip of a girl was just twelve, a mere child.

“I’m Marin,” she said, smiling at them. The boy smiled back, and the girl attempted a smile, but she was shaking too much for it to be convincing.

“Cassian Nicks,” said the boy, sticking out his hand. Solomon shook it enthusiastically, the grin on his face matching Cassian’s. “This is Eulalie.”

Eulalie trembled, and Marin smiled in what she hoped was a comforting way – she hadn’t planned on talking to anyone else out of the alliance, but it couldn’t hurt to make a couple of friends, rather than enemies. Even though she would probably end up killing these ‘friends’ at some point in time.

“You two made quite the entrance yesterday,” Cassian said, looking them up and down, his eyes like lasers. Marin wondered what was going on in his head; what did he think of them? What was he planning?

“Well, so did you two,” Solomon told them; Cassian grinned.

“Told you, Lalie, I told you we were rockin’,” he said, jokingly elbowing the smaller girl, who giggled.

Marin smiled Eulalie. “Seriously, that crown was beautiful. You looked like an angel.”

Eulalie smiled back at her, and this time it seemed real – she seemed more at ease, in any case. “Thanks. You looked – you looked pretty.”

The elevator stopped at Four’s floor, and Solomon curtseyed jokingly at the kids from Five before exiting. Marin just waved, and was both pleased and horrified when Eulalie waved back. _I shouldn’t get close… I can’t get close._ But she couldn’t help it – even though her daughter was only fifteen months, she was reminded of her when she looked at Eulalie. That could have something to do with age – at just barely twelve, Eulalie was the youngest and tiniest of all the tributes. Marin felt sick, not for the first time since the Reaping, when she realised that the tiny girl would probably be lying cold in a box somewhere in the near future.

“Solomon,” she hissed. “Sol, I can’t kill those kids.”

“You have to,” he said, looking at the floor. Marin wondered why her kind-hearted friend had volunteered – he didn’t seem to want to be here, even though he had been in the running to volunteer since he was thirteen years old. He wasn’t the killing type, despite his talent with spears.

“I know I have to. But I just… whenever I imagine killing them, they – they all have Minnow’s face, Sol.”

Solomon didn’t say anything for a while, and kept his gaze on the floor. “You have to kill them if you want to go back to her.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, genius. I just…” a lump rose in Marin’s throat, and she was determined to keep her voice steady. “Sol, I just…”

“I know how you feel, Marin,” he said, and squeezed her hand, offering her a tender smile. “That boy from Eleven looks like Dylan.”

They smiled at each other then, sadly – they knew what lay ahead. Dylan was Solomon’s boyfriend back home, and now that he had pointed it out, the Eleven boy _did_ resemble Dylan. Similar build, similar colouring – point was, they all had something that reminded them of home.

“How’d it go?” Finnick asked, the second they walked in the door.

“Good,” Solomon said.

Marin shrugged. “Okay,” she said, not meeting Finnick’s eyes. She was worried, mainly, about the already rising tensions in the alliance – they hadn’t even gotten into the arena yet. And she was of course worried about Vita’s contempt for her – she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it, or how she could fix it, or if it was even _possible_ for her to fix whatever it was that she’d done. She couldn’t afford to have any one of her allies turn on her – she was easily the smallest of the group, and probably weakest physically – she to go to the hadn’t been preparing to go to the Games, after all.

“Why just okay?”

“Vita from Two doesn’t like me. I’m the least trusted of the alliance.”

“Of course you are,” Finnick said, and she looked up in surprise – she had been expecting him to reassure her.

“What?” she asked, trying to keep the bewilderment she felt out of her voice.

“Of course you are,” he repeated. “They’re all volunteers – you were reaped. She’s doubting that you have what it takes. Right now, they’re probably thinking that you’re a liability.”

“So what do I do?” Marin asked him. Mags had wandered over to join their little group, handing Marin and Solomon chicken sandwiches, which they took from her without question.

“You throw yourself into training,” Finnick said, running a hand through his coppery hair. “Show them what you can do. Joke with them, talk about targets - make them think that you’re one of them.”

“I’m not.”

“No, you’re not,” Finnick agreed. “But they need you. The more people in the alliance, the better – the more manpower, the more sponsors, the more protection. And if they kicked you out, they would need to replace you – and though they might not trust you as much, they trust you a hell of a lot more than they’d trust anyone from the outer districts.”

“There are always advantages and there are always disadvantages,” Mags told her, and Finnick nodded in agreement.

Marin sighed. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Make them trust you. You’re already close to Solomon, so that helps you. Is there anyone else in the alliance you could get close to? Someone else you could trust?”

“Topaz,” she said immediately, not even having to think about it. “From One.” She would never be able to trust Topaz as much as she trusted Solomon, of course – a couple of days could never compare to eight years. But the girl from One seemed nice enough, and there was no doubting her skill, for she was as light as a butterfly with a rapier, dodging blows and delivering blows of her own as though it came as naturally to her as breathing – and it probably did. She would be a good friend to have on her side, and Vita didn’t seem to have any problem with her, so if Marin could get Topaz on her side, she would be tipping the scale in her direction.

“Yeah, she seems cool,” Solomon agreed, devouring his sandwich in five bites.

“Good,” Finnick said, with a satisfied nod. “Get her to trust you, as much as possible – the more people who can vouch for you, the better.” Mags hummed her agreement, and handed Finnick a bowl of sugar cubes, which he accepted with a smile, tossing one in the air and catching it in his mouth.

Marin nodded, and Mags patted her hand. The tenderness of the gesture brought a new wave of sadness, and a lump rose in her throat again. “I just want to see Minnow again,” she said, her eyes filling with the tears she had been holding in all day.

“Come, come,” said Mags, grabbing her by the elbow and leading her over to the lush white sofa. Finnick led Solomon to the adjacent sitting room, to give her some privacy, she presumed. Marin leaned back into the cushions with a deep exhale, covering her face with her hands and sniffling. She tried to get a hold of herself, but she didn’t see the point – this was the only place she could safely cry without the other Careers assuming she was weak. And so she cried, and she cried, and she cried – and Mags just sat with her, patting her back, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Marin took out a small, crinkled photograph of her daughter – it had cost a whole month’s tesserae to pay for someone to take, but it was worth it. She had folded and unfolded the photo countless times since the reaping, and she brushed a finger over her daughter’s beaming little paper face, wishing once again that she was at home.

“You’ll see her again,” Mags said, clasping Marin’s smooth hands in her wrinkled ones. Marin smiled at the old lady, who returned the gesture.

Marin nodded. “I’ll see her again,” she said, sniffling. Mags wiped another tear from her face.

“Good girl,” said Mags, nodding contentedly. “Now, go shower before dinner.”

“Are you saying I stink?” Marin asked jokingly.

Mags grinned. “I certainly am.”

“Rude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention - Johanna isn't the only character. There will be POVs of other tributes, mentors, and even people in the districts. But fear not, Johanna is and will always be the main character.  
> I don't have a lot of experience in writing fight scenes, so I hope it was okay. I do have experience with sparring, though - Taekwondo. I just added weapons. If you have any advice, please let me know :)


	4. Thank the Dryads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is asked to join an alliance, and panics that her acting isn't good enough to convince everyone she's useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Backstabbin' Betty by Cage the Elephant

**Capitol, Training Centre – Johanna Mason**

Training had certainly been an interesting experience so far. Most of the other tributes ignored her, except to tease her occasionally, and the only tributes who would talk to her were Elm and a few of the younger, weaker ones.

The girls from districts Five and Nine approached her at the knots station on the second day of training. Johanna was attempting to make a hammock, and she didn’t even need to pretend that she was terrible at it – her knots failed over and over.

“Hello,” said the girl from Five, somewhat nervously. Johanna ignored her, not looking up from the coil of rope in her hands.

The girl from Nine cleared her throat pointedly, but still Johanna wouldn’t look at them. She hoped they would think she was shy, and not that she just really disliked people in general. “Oi. Seven,” said the girl impatiently. Johanna liked her attitude.

Johanna tried not to roll her eyes. “Yes?” she whispered, slowly raising her eyes, and the girl from Nine grinned.

“Hi,” she said, sticking out a hand. Johanna shook it limply. “Maizy. It’s a pleasure.”

“I’m sure it is,” Johanna muttered under her breath before she could stop herself, but the other girls appeared not to hear her.

“So what’s your deal, anyway? Is this your strategy?”

 _Shit,_ thought Johanna, and tried to adopt a terrified look. “W-what do you mean?” she stuttered.

“Oh, come on, Seven, did you really think that everyone would believe your little cry-baby act? Because I sure as hell don’t,” Maizy said, and flicked her long red hair over her shoulder.

The girl from Five tugged on Maizy’s sleeve, looking anxious. “Maizy, don’t – just leave her-“ she trailed off, going pale when Maizy scowled.

“Leave her alone? Come on, Eulalie, surely Rosemary didn’t tell you to be nice to people for your strategy? That never worked for her, if I recall.”

“Well, I don’t think – I don’t think you’ll earn any allies by being rude, Maizy,” Eulalie said, twisting her hands and looking towards the door, where she seemed to desperately want to run to, away from them all. Johanna couldn’t blame her – she wanted to run out of that door and all the way back to District Seven, to her family, to Eurydice, and never set foot in the Capitol again.

She didn’t know what she had been expecting, when the two girls approached her, but them requesting her as an ally certainly wasn’t it. It made no sense at all – they could have anyone, and they had to ask Johanna, who was doing everything she could to _avoid_ this type of thing. And them asking her meant that she had been noticed, for whatever reason, and that was the exact opposite of what she was trying to do.

“You want me as an ally?” she said, forgetting, in her disbelief, to keep her terrified mask on. Maizy gave her a creepy little smile, her eyebrow twitching, and Johanna quickly put her mask on again, dropping her eyes to the ground so Maizy wouldn’t see the annoyance in them.

“Well, I don’t know yet, Seven, I have to figure you out first,” said Maizy.

 _Shit. Why the hell does she want to figure me out?_ “But why-“

“Why you?” Maizy interjected. “You’re the perfect front.”

Johanna furrowed her eyebrows. “Front?”

“The Careers would never suspect it. We’re strong. You’re, well, you’re…” Maizy smiled again. Johanna wondered what kind of noise she would make if she got punched in the face. Would she squeal? Grunt? Cry? Johanna really wanted to find out.

“Pathetic,” she offered, and Maizy gave her a brilliant smile, her cheeks dimpling. For a moment, she looked almost friendly, and Johanna suspected that if they were from the same district, she and Maizy would either be great friends or mortal enemies.

“There’s the word I was looking for,” Maizy said with a satisfied nod. “Yes. Pathetic. Therefore, you won’t be a target at the Cornucopia.”

“And we will,” Eulalie said.

Maizy scoffed at her, and Eulalie’s face quickly went from white to red. “You won’t be, Eulalie, are you kidding? You’re bite-sized. But Scythe will be, and Natania, and me, and Cassian too. He’s too smart not to be,” Maizy paused, and looked Johanna over. “But if Seven here is on our side, well, she could go in and out of the Cornucopia without anyone pursuing her. If she’s there at the same time we are, she’ll be able to get away with so many supplies. So whaddya say, Seven?”

She pretended to think, but she didn’t need to – she already knew what her answer had to be. “No,” she said. Maizy looked at her with cold blue eyes. Johanna bit her lip, and looked at the ground. It was a good offer – but if Maizy had already come close to figuring out her strategy, the others wouldn’t be too far behind – she wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , risk that happening. “I – it’s too dangerous,” she said lamely.

Maizy tutted. “Well, I look forward to seeing you in the sky, Seven, because without our help – well, you won’t make it two days in the arena.” Johanna burst into tears, sobbing into the rope, and Maizy was unsuccessfully keeping the mixture of pity and disgust off her face. Without another word, she grabbed Eulalie by a skinny elbow and dragged her away.

“Sorry,” Eulalie whispered to her as they left.

Johanna abandoned the knots station – she knew it was pointless to even try. Her hands were build for swinging axes, chopping wood, climbing trees – not trying to tie a hammock, of all things. She dropped the tear-covered rope, ignoring the look the trainer sent her.

She went to the plants station, thinking over the bizarre conversation she’d had with Maizy. So there _was_ an alliance – Nine and Five, an unusual pair, and Maizy had said the name Natania. Johanna remembered writing that name in her list of threats – the crazy volunteer from Ten. Now, what could they be up to? She wouldn’t have pegged Natania as the type to be in alliance – nor Scythe, for that matter. They seemed too much like lone wolves, loose cannons. In fact, even Maizy and the boy from Five – Cassian, if she remembered correctly – seemed as though an alliance would be above them. Maizy in particular seemed extremely disagreeable, a trait that usually wreaked hell on alliances – Johanna guessed that she wasn’t the type to handle rejection well, even if it was from someone as pitiful as herself. Heck, maybe that was the reason she was so angry – if someone as pathetic as the cry-baby didn’t want her, who would?

Johanna tried to keep the grin off her face when she thought of this. She had never gone this long before without offending someone on a personal level, and if she was being honest, she kind of missed it, even if her remarks hadn’t been as scathing or witty as she would have liked them to be.

She went to the knife throwing station after that. Magnolia had taught Eurydice and herself some of the more basic techniques, but she didn’t know much more than that – like most in District Seven, axes had been her forte in the arena. Even so, Johanna knew how to grip the knives properly, and how to stand – it was the whole ‘getting it to actually stick to the target’ business that she struggled with. Her aim was good, thanks to her skill with an axe, so at least that was in her favour.

“You’re throwing it wrong,” said the trainer, Egberta, and demonstrated the correct technique for what must have been the hundredth time.

“I just can’t do it!” Johanna cried. She could do it, of course, but she couldn’t risk it if someone was watching her.

“Yes you can. Don’t flick your wrist, you need to keep your wrist stable for a solid hit… like so.”

Just to humour her, Johanna actually threw it properly that time, and Egberta grinned at her. “Excellent! Didn’t I tell you?”

“Yes,” Johanna said, sniffling. She picked up another knife, and this time it missed. Egberta’s face fell, and for a moment Johanna almost felt bad – but she knew the techniques now, anyway. Magnolia had informed her that it was against the rules to have a target installed in her room, but nowhere in the rulebook did it say she couldn’t draw a bullseye on the wall with berry juice and chuck knives at it, which was exactly what she had done and would continue to do.

0o0o

She was almost bursting to tell Magnolia what had happened that day. Magnolia’s face fell when she was informed of Maizy’s proposal.

“It could be a one-time only alliance,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s happened before, though they’re not incredibly common as they often fail. But sometimes tributes ally for a day or two at the start, to get supplies from the Cornucopia and fight so there’s not as many left to pursue them.”

“So you mean that they’ll ally at the Cornucopia and then take off?”

“It is possible. It happened in the fortieth – I think I may actually have the tape, let me find it.”

Magnolia led her to the sitting room, and began rummaging through a dusty cardboard box. Blight and Elm entered the room, and Blight cleared his throat. “What are you looking for, Magnolia?”

“The tape. Of the fortieth,” said Magnolia, her butt in the air as she dug through a dusty cupboard that looked as though it hadn’t been opened for at least ten years.

“Why the fortieth?” Blight asked her, raising his eyebrows in inquiry.

“Johanna believes that there may be a one-time alliance in formation.”

Blight turned his head sharply, looking at Johanna with those intense green eyes of his. “What makes you think that?”

Johanna shrugged, and shifted in her seat as though she was uncomfortable under his gaze. “Maizy from Nine asked me to join. The kids from Five, the boy from Nine, and that weird girl from Ten are in it, too.”

“Why’d she ask you to join?” Elm asked, trying and failing to keep the suspicion out of his voice. Johanna realised that she needed to step up her game – too many people were guessing what she was up to, and she suspected that there were already a number of them who could see right through her. _Maybe I’m not as good of an actress as I thought._

“Aha!” Magnolia cried triumphantly, holding up a dusty old tape. “I knew it was here somewhere. Blight, I told you last year we should have organised this place.”

She slid it into the television, and skipped through the opening ceremonies. She paused when they featured one of the highlights from training – it showed a group of four tributes huddling together at a table, their heads close together as they whispered, shooting sly glances at the Careers every now and then. “District Eight, the boy from Eleven, and the girl from Six, who won that year.”

Magnolia skipped through some more, stopping at the Bloodbath. The pair from Eight turned out to be quite talented at hand-to-hand combat, and when they paired this with daggers as long as their elbows, they were almost as vicious as the Careers. The boy from Eleven and the girl from Six, who Johanna didn’t recognise, charged into the Cornucopia and grabbed supplies, before running out again. They were joined in the woods by the pair from Eight, who only narrowly escaped with their lives – the boy was missing two of the fingers from his right hand.

“They stayed together for just two days, and managed to take down the girl from Four before the alliance split,” Magnolia said. “Iris only won because of the paints she found at the Cornucopia – she used them to camouflage herself, and basically just became a tree for the rest of her Games, and waited until everyone else killed each other off for her.”

“What’s the girl’s name?” Elm asked. “I don’t recognise her.”

Magnolia shook her head. “You wouldn’t. Morphling greatly alters the appearance of a person, and the poor girl used it to cope after her Games. Iris Underlock, won the Games aged fifteen, the first and only female Victor from District Six.”

“Six has only one once since – Danton Rowell, won the year before I did, the 53rd,” Blight told them. “Are you certain there’s a one-time alliance, Johanna? They can be quite dangerous if done correctly.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Johanna said, “but I think so. Maizy didn’t seem very happy about asking me, I think the others put her up to it, and from the way she talks she doesn’t like her allies very much. I don’t think they’ll stay together very long.”

“Well, regardless of there being another alliance, I think the Careers are the main ones you have to worry about,” Blight said. “The Careers will be actively hunting people down – I’d say that these tributes just want to have enough supplies that they can hide for a long time without having to rely on sponsors or their own skills.”

Magnolia hummed her agreement. “From the looks of them, and if they’re as good as the two of you say, they may actually get quite a few sponsors. And if the alliance holds, well, and outer-district alliance is always met with great interest in the Capitol. They may actually challenge the Careers in that aspect.”

“So let’s hope the alliance breaks as soon as possible,” said Blight.

“And if it doesn’t?” asked Elm.

Blight looked grim. “Hope you can run faster than they can.”

0o0o

Johanna grabbed Magnolia’s arm after dinner. “Can I talk to you?”

“Certainly,” said Magnolia, and led her into the sitting room.

“I think Maizy’s on the verge of figuring out my strategy. She said today, and I quote ‘did you really think that everyone would believe your little cry-baby act’ and if she knows, well, I’d say there’s a good chance the rest of her little alliance have their suspicions, too.”

Magnolia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Motherfucker. Okay. Well, you need to step it up a little, then.”

“And how am I meant to do that?” asked Johanna. She didn’t think it was possible. Her eyes were constantly red and puffy from crying, her throat hoarse and her whole demeanour as pathetic as was possible for her.

“I want you to aim for a one tomorrow.”

Johanna was surprised. There was maybe two or three people in the entire history of the Games who had received a one – and as pathetic and useless as she seemed, Johanna didn’t know if she would manage it. After all, everything else had gone wrong so far – why not her training score as well? “And how the hell am I meant to do that?”

“Chuck some knives around, make em’ fall short, tie some terrible knots – I don’t know. Just make a fool of yourself – I’m sure you’ll manage to do that, you’ve gotten extremely good at it.”

Johanna scowled at her, but Magnolia only laughed. “It was a compliment. You’re a better actor than half of the celebrities in the Capitol.”

“Well, thank the dryads for that,” Johanna said.


	5. Hysterical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna embarrasses herself in front of the Gamemakers and is very happy with her training score.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Fortunate Fool by Jack Johnson

**Capitol, Training Centre: Johanna Mason**

Johanna decided to make a visit to the axe station – it was against Magnolia’s wishes, but she thought she had the right idea. She didn’t think anyone was watching her – Maizy, maybe, but she knew the Careers probably had her on their list of ‘Bloodbath fodder’ so she wasn’t worried about them. It would be suspicious if she didn’t go – almost every tribute from Seven used an axe as their weapon. They would think she was intentionally hiding her skills if she didn’t go, and she couldn’t have that.

The trainer obviously wasn’t buying it, though. “You’ve got the right stance, you’re holding it right, I know that you know how to aim it,” she said with narrowed eyes. “So why won’t you let it hit the target?”

Johanna shrugged. “It just won’t.” She could tell that the pink-haired trainer didn’t believe her, though she didn’t ask again, and merely continued to point out Johanna’s mistakes. Or lack thereof.

She spent the rest of the morning at the survival stations, perfecting her stitches at the medical station before she went to plants again. The trainer greeted her with a barely concealed sigh, obviously fed-up with Johanna and her seemingly endless tears. Thanks to the menthol Magnolia had given her that she dabbed under her eyes every morning, her eyes were constantly watering, the strong smell making them run.

The plants station had pine needles – she hadn’t noticed them before. Why would there be pine needles, if it wasn’t a forest? Johanna knew about a million things that pine needles could be used for. She knew that the plants at the plants station usually gave clues towards the arena, but there was a good mix of plants that were seemingly unrelated. There were basil leaves, and elderberries, and, weirdly enough, mangoes – and Johanna hadn’t been able to think of a biome that would include all of these plants together. But pine needles – she knew pine needles. Pine needles reminded her of home.

“You can make those into tea,” the trainer said unhelpfully. Johanna did her best not to roll her eyes. Did he not know she was from Seven? Did he not think that maybe, just maybe, she had a good knowledge of trees? “And put them into soup. And eat them as is.”

“I know,” was all she said. All she trusted herself to say, rather. _God, I can’t wait to be me again._

0o0o

The minutes trickled by slowly, and Johanna talked to no-one, looked at no-one. She spent the hours waiting staring at her feet and nibbling on a bread roll, while Elm chatted to the tributes from eight. The girl, who introduced herself as Bernina – _“But call me Nina.”_ \- tried to engage Johanna in conversation a couple of times, but Johanna made it very clear that she wasn’t interested in talking, and Nina soon dropped it, and resumed batting her eyelashes at Elm.

When Elm’s name was called after what seemed like forever, Johanna sat up a little straighter. She hadn’t really gone through what she was going to do with Magnolia, because there was only so much Magnolia could tell her – after all, her whole plan was to seem pathetic and avoid attention, and that was the opposite of what Magnolia usually tried to achieve with her tributes.

“Johanna Mason, District Seven.”

Johanna stood with shaking knees, and caught Maizy’s eye before she left the room. The girl from Nine smirked at her, and Johanna allowed her eyes to fill with tears before she turned her back. Elm had left fifteen minutes before her, and Johanna wondered what he had done. He was strong from years of working in the forests, but Johanna didn’t know how he would compare to the Careers. She hoped he would get a good score – it would make up for the sponsors she had scared away from their district.

The Gamemakers stared down at her, drinks in hand, and Johanna was disgusted at them. How dare they? How dare they sit there drinking as the children they were about to kill stood before them? She wanted nothing more than to climb up there and smack the drinks out of their hands, but she resolved herself to picking up an axe instead.

Imagining that she was driving it repeatedly into Seneca Crane’s forehead, she threw it towards a target, trying to forget her years of practice. She threw it short, and the axe clattered to the ground. Someone laughed and Johanna burst into tears, and soon all the Gamemakers were laughing at her.

An Avox hurried up to her and handed her a tissue, which she accepted, blowing her nose loudly and staring up at the grotesque people who believed her fate was sealed. _Just you wait,_ she thought, _just you wait._

She threw some more axes and knives onto the ground, letting one or two stick nowhere near the target, tears still flowing down her face. Eventually, though she just curled up into a little ball on the ground, sobbing and wailing and clutching at nothing. Johanna had seen many hysterical people before, thanks to the high number of accidents they had in the lumber district. She had seen people crushed by trees, people accidentally getting hands or feet cut off, and once, she remembered with a turning stomach, once she had seen a chainsaw explode in the face of a man.

She had never been hysterical herself. But she had observed – some people kicked and scratched and spat as though they were cats, some people screamed until they couldn’t scream anymore, and some people cried and wailed and shook. Johanna tried to achieve a combination of these behaviours, and when she risked a glance up at the Gamemakers, she knew she was successful in convincing them.

“You may now leave, Miss Mason,” said Seneca Crane, after a while. She had only been five or six minutes, but they had obviously gotten bored of watching her sob her heart out. She couldn’t imagine that it would be very entertaining.

Letting out another small wail of what she hoped sounded like despair, Johanna fled from the room, pressing the buttons by the elevator again and again and again. When the doors opened, she practically flung herself inside – she heard another swell of laughter before they closed.

Quickly, she stopped crying, but didn’t bother wiping away her tears – she still needed to keep Blight and Elm under her thumb. Even though Magnolia had assured her that Blight wouldn’t be a problem, she still didn’t trust him. It was his duty to help Elm as much as he could – and she knew that, if he found out, he would have to tell Elm what she was doing.

The Avox in the elevator handed her a tissue, and she blew her nose, but kept her deadpan expression. She didn’t see the point in keeping the act up around Avoxes – they couldn’t exactly tell anyone what she was up to, after all. When the elevator stopped, she nodded her thanks to the blonde-haired Avox, who nodded back, and walked quickly down the corridor to the District Seven penthouse.

Blight, Magnolia, Elm and Arabella were in the sitting room, waiting for her, apparently. “Ah, Johanna,” Magnolia said. “How did it go?”

Johanna burst into tears. Again. She didn’t know how many more times she could do that – it was getting really boring, and if it was boring for her, well, surely everyone else was ten times as bored. Magnolia tutted. “Oh, there there, it can’t have been that bad.” She walked over and gave Johanna a hug for the show.

“What happened, Johanna?” Blight asked her kindly after she sat down next to Elm.

“I just – I just- I ruined everything!” she wailed. “Everything! I have no chance now. None!” Not that anyone thought she had a chance to begin with, anyway.

Elm patted her on the shoulder awkwardly, his large hands clumsy. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Johanna.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, it won’t be fine, Elm.” _It’ll be fine._ To be honest, she was a bit surprised that Elm had accepted her act without question – they had gone to school together, after all, and had been in the same work group. She had always been sullen, this was true, and she hoped that Elm thought she just wasn’t reacting well – she hoped he wouldn’t think anything else. He had never been the sharpest tool in the shed, anyway, and so she doubted that he would see through her.

“Made a fool of yourself again, did you?” said Arabella snidely. Johanna contented herself to imagining she was dousing Arabella in gasoline, matches in hand, so she didn’t’ say anything that would give her away. She had her doubts about winning, but meeting the hordes of irritating, disgusting people in the Capitol had given her even more determination to get out – so she could show them that they wouldn’t get anything from her, not even tears, if she had her choice.

Magnolia glared at the escort, and Arabella glared back. “You’re one to talk, Arabella. You have a pimple on your chin, by the way, you might want to put something on it.”

Arabella instantly covered her chin with her hand, and rushed from the room.

“Was that really necessary, Magnolia?” Blight asked, frowning. Johanna wished she could tell him to lighten up. Arabella didn’t have any other purpose, after all, and she thought that they may as well make fun of her.

“Blight, my darling, you know it was.”

“So what did you do, Johanna? I threw axes, couldn’t tell what the Gamemakers thought though,” said Elm.

“I _tried_ to throw axes,” she said, hiccupping. “And then I started crying and I just couldn’t stop, and they dismissed me.”

“Oh,” said Elm. He shifted uncomfortably, obviously not knowing what else to say. _Good,_ thought Johanna. It meant he was convinced of her act – he had nothing good to say to her.

Blight cleared his throat, thankfully breaking the awkward silence. “Why don’t you two go get cleaned up? Dinner’s not for another hour.”

“Okay,” Elm said, and Johanna nodded, heading off to her room. Magnolia followed her, putting an arm around her shoulder. To the others, it must have looked as though Magnolia wanted to comfort Johanna.

But really, they spent the next forty minutes going over wrestling techniques, and knife throwing techniques, and Magnolia quizzed Johanna on the plants at the edible plants station.

“I think you’ve got this under control, Johanna,” she said, before leaving. Johanna wanted to laugh – she certainly did not have _anything_ under control. Including the thoughts of home, of family, of Eurydice that she just couldn’t get out of her head. And she desperately needed to – she needed to focus, to think of anything else but home.

Johanna had a quick shower before dinner, washing her hair in citrus-scented water, and put on a long black skirt and purple blouse. She wasn’t a fan of the Capitol or its people, but she had to admit that the clothes were to die for. Some of them, anyway – not including her chariot costume. Dabbing a girly perfume on her wrists, she headed to the dining room, trying not to sneeze. Blight was already there, chatting with Oscar and Jamie, who Johanna hadn’t seen much since they had arrived in the Capitol.

“Where have you two been?” she asked Oscar and Jamie.

“Places,” Jamie said enigmatically. He and Oscar had been absent for most of their time in the Capitol, joining them for breakfast and disappearing until late in the evening. “Business to attend to,” he added.

“What kind of business?” Johanna asked, trying to keep the suspicious tone from her voice.

Oscar seemed to want to tell her, but Blight quickly shook his head. “Never mind, Johanna. Do you have any questions about the Games?” he asked.

Johanna frowned at him, unable to help it. “What aren’t you telling me?” They were keeping something from her, she knew it – she could see it in their most subtle movements, movements they probably weren’t even aware that they were making. Not everyone was as talented and actor as she was, after all.

Blight was saved from answering by the arrival of Magnolia and Elm, who took their seats.

“What score were you aiming for, Elm?” Jamie asked. He had taken a liking to Elm, as had Oscar – and of course they would like him. Strong, capable, determined – he was everything a Victor should be, and to them, the opposite of Johanna. To them, he had a chance, and of course they would root for him, not poor, pathetic, snivelling little Johanna.

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing lower than six, I hope,” Elm said, and Johanna burst into loud sobs once more, quickly covering her face with a pristine white napkin. She had forgotten to re-apply the menthol that made tears easier to achieve – _shit!_

“What is it, Johanna?” Magnolia sighed, and seemed believably exasperated. _I guess I’m not the only one here who can act._

Johanna sniffled. “Oh, I’m sorry, Elm,” she said, as if guilty she was taking the attention away from him. She wasn’t. “I just –oh, I just _know_ that I’m going to get a low score. Maybe even a zero.”

“You can’t have been that bad, Johanna,” said Oscar, eyebrows raised. Nobody had ever gotten a zero before, but there was a first time for everything – Johanna didn’t know why he was so surprised. If there was anyone who would get a zero, it would be Johanna – or at least the version of Johanna that she was showing them.

“You didn’t see me!” she cried, letting out another hiccupping sob. God, she hated this girl she was showing them. She _hated_ her, and couldn’t wait to kill her.

Blight reached across the table and patted Johanna’s hand, a kind look on his face. “Well, let’s not jump to conclusions, Johanna, we haven’t even see the scores yet.” Johanna couldn’t stand Blight – he was too kind, too smart, too intuitive – she knew that he would figure out what she was doing soon, if he hadn’t already.

Johanna sniffled again, and used the napkin to wipe her face. Nodding at Blight, she set it down on the table. “Okay,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze – she wasn’t sure if he would believe her if he saw her eyes.

Her facial expression, her body language, her voice she could control – but not her eyes. If there was anything that would give her away, it would be the anger she knew was in her eyes, the determination she had to get home. She didn’t know Blight very well at all, but she had a feeling that he was the type of person who looked people in the eye, and figured out their secrets.

“Let’s just try to enjoy dinner,” Blight said, leaning back in his chair.

0o0o

“Do the two of you have your notebooks?” Magnolia asked. They both nodded, and she smiled at them.

Oscar and Jamie both stayed to see the scores – obviously whatever ‘business’ they had been attending to could wait. Or perhaps the ‘business’ just wanted to watch the television as well.

 **District 1 –** _8 for the boy, 9 for the girl._

 **District 2 –** _10 for both._

 **District 3 –** _4 for the boy, 3 for the girl._

 **District 4 –** _9 for the boy, 8 for the girl._

The Careers had predictably high scores, and Johanna wondered what the District Two tributes had done to both get tens – it was pretty rare for two people from the same district to score so high. Although, Johanna wasn’t surprised – she had watched them in training. The girl – Vita – could hit anything with a bow, or longbow, or crossbow – any kind of bow, really, though a longbow seemed to be her favourite. On top of that, she seemed to adore hand-to-hand combat, and took great delight in beating up the trainer for all to see. Her district partner was more subtle, using a scimitar to disembowel and dismember dummies as though they had wronged him on a personal level. Johanna wouldn’t be surprised, though, if he was hiding something else – his eyes were like a shark’s.

 **District 5 –** _6 for the boy, 4 for the girl._

 **District 6 –** _5 for both._

Johanna waited with bated breath for their scores, chewing her nails to bits – and she wasn’t even pretending. She needed a low score, especially since Maizy was suspicious of her – and she couldn’t be a target at the Cornucopia, she couldn’t, because she would have to fight back, and to give up her strategy so early into the Games would be disastrous. She hoped desperately for a one, and realised that she was probably the first tribute to ever hope for such a low score.

A seven accompanied Elm’s photo, and the Blight clapped him on the back. “Excellent,” he said, his eyes crinkling.

Elm grinned. “Thanks.” Oscar ruffled his hair.

Johanna successfully bit back a grin when a one appeared with her picture, which was an unusual reaction for someone who’d just received the lowest score of all the tributes so far. Instead of celebrating her success, however, she covered her face with her hands, letting out a howl that she hoped sounded upset. It was hard, though, because she was so incredibly happy – she had done it. This would hopefully help to convince Maizy that there actually wasn’t anything else to her. She hoped it would be enough.

“It’s alright, Johanna,” Jamie said comfortingly. Johanna wanted to smack him if that was his automatic reaction to a bad score – telling the tribute it would be okay when things almost definitely weren’t going to be okay. Of course, this was not the case for Johanna, but even so, it was kind of a dickish thing for him to say.

 **District 8 –** _5 for the boy, 6 for the girl._

 **District 9 –** _9 for the boy, 7 for the girl._

 **District 10 –** _8 for both._

 **District 11 –** _5 for the boy, 4 for the girl._

 **District 12 –** _3 for the boy, 5 for the girl._

The second the announcement was done, Johanna fled to her room, ignoring the voices behind her telling her it would be alright. She knew, of course, that it would be alright, but the rest of them had to think that it wouldn’t be, and they probably already did, save for Magnolia and possibly Blight.

She had to admit that she was worried, though. It wasn’t just Careers getting high scores – in fact, a good amount of tributes had gotten a six or above. She wasn’t surprised at some of them – Scythe, the boy from Nine, Natania, the crazy girl from Ten – Johanna had watched them in training. Scythe defeated most of the trainers in wrestling, and she had watched him decapitate dummy after dummy after dummy. Natania was vicious too – slitting dummy throats like nobody’s business. Maizy’s score, too, wasn’t a surprise, although Johanna didn’t know what she’d done to achieve it.

Johanna had been worried about the Careers. But with three other tributes getting Career scores, and two other tributes – Elm included – getting just below, Johanna wondered if she’d been worrying about the wrong people. Especially since she had refused their offers of an alliance – and especially because almost certainly one of them knew that she was hiding something.

Johanna sighed, and flopped onto her bed for a moment before ordering beef stew on white rice. She was full from dinner, but was forcing herself to eat as much as she could whenever she had the opportunity – she would need the extra fat, because although her knowledge of plants was extensive, there was no telling if she would actually be able to find these plants – and the combination of plants at the station was so confusing, Johanna wasn’t entirely sure what kind of biome the arena would be. And there was no way she would have sponsors that would send her food – she was probably the laughing stock of the Capitol right now.

She wondered what her family was thinking. She had pushed them out of her mind the past couple of days, barely thinking of them at all, and she felt a bit guilty. But Johanna knew that if she did think of them, she wouldn’t be able to focus – in fact, whenever she closed her eyes, she saw their faces, heard their voices in the last moments they had had together. And Eurydice – Johanna sighed again. She had been trying to think of her girlfriend even less than her family, but it had been hard. Magnolia looked so much like her granddaughter, she spoke the same way, she had the same facial expressions – and whenever Johanna looked at the woman who was trying to get her out of the arena, she could only think about the girl who was back home, probably happily stirring up trouble for everyone.

That was what Eurydice did – she made messes, and dragged you along for the ride, believing that her grandmother’s status and riches gave her immunity against anything and anyone. She was a smart girl, Eurydice was, but sometimes she could be so incredibly stupid – after all, did she really think the Capitol gave a single shit about her? Or her grandmother? Because Johanna knew for a fact that they didn’t. Otherwise they wouldn’t have reaped her girlfriend.

She was up to something bad, Eurydice was, Johanna had seen it in her eyes, hear it in what she didn’t say. She didn’t know what it could be, exactly, but Johanna had a nasty feeling that it wouldn’t end well.

Johanna ate until she was almost sick, and had a cold shower and a mug of ginger tea to ward off the nausea. She went over her notes one more time before going to bed, trying to push thoughts of her family and her beautiful, stupid Eurydice out of her head. Tomorrow was preparation for the interviews, and goodness knows Johanna needed to be prepared, especially if her low training score hadn’t convinced a certain someone that she wasn’t one to worry about.


	6. Eurydice: A Common Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eurydice discusses an important upcoming event with Cypress and several other wannabe-rebels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: We've Gotta Get Out of this Place by The Animals

**District Seven, the Acorn: Eurydice Babineaux**

“Cypress,” Eurydice hissed, waving at her friend from the stall. He looked up, and grinned at her – good. He wasn’t having a bad day, that would make things a million times easier. “Thanks, Laurel,” Eurydice said to the stall owner, putting her newly-purchased book – ‘The Diary of Anne Frank’ - in her satchel. The quiet woman nodded at her. Laurel sold books, from the Capitol, from other districts, even books from before the Dark Days, and Eurydice visited her often. She had no idea where Laurel got the books from, but Eurydice wasn’t complaining.

“Good afternoon, Eurydice,” Cypress said. “Evening, rather,” he said, checking his watch with a frown.

“Where’s Myrtle?” Eurydice asked. They had planned, after completing their various tasks, to meet up in the Acorn. Myrtle was Cypress’ older sister.

“She’s attending to… other things,” he said, looking around pointedly. Nobody was listening, but Eurydice took his hint – they had to be careful. They never knew who could be listening. “Have you spoken to Perry yet?”

Eurydice nodded. “Yeah. He says we’re all good. Hollis and Tamora are going to head out later for the deliveries.”

“Good. Okay. I’m going to see Mu later, about the venue – he’s reluctant, but I think the Victor’s Pocket might sway him.”

“Well, thank the dryads for that,” Eurydice said with a smile. “I feel a bit bad, to be honest.”

“Why?” Cypress asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, we’re kind of taking advantage of a poverty-stricken man.”

“No we’re not. He offered, a year ago, remember? It just so happens that business for him has gotten bad, and we have money.”

Eurydice shrugged. She still felt bad – they were basically bribing him, knowing that Mu had no choice but to accept. Their district had been suffering in the years since Cypress’ victory, and the past year had been particularly horrible – more people than ever were starving, more people were getting whipped or executed, and many businesses in the town had shut down, even businesses that had been wealthy in the past. And in Eurydice’s opinion, they were endangering a poor man by bribing him to let them use his bar. For a rebellion, no less. “Still.”

Cypress seemed to guess at what was running through her head, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Eurydice, he wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t mean it.”

“It just seems like he’s changed his mind, that’s all.”

“I can change it back.”

“I’m sure you can,” Eurydice said dryly. “And that is precisely why I feel bad.”

Cypress sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture which reminded Eurydice of her grandmother and sent a pang through her chest. “Just – remember why we’re doing this, Eurydice.”

Eurydice gulped. Johanna was why she was doing this – Johanna who she loved, Johanna who she hadn’t volunteered for. Johanna who she hoped would come home to a changed world – or at least a world that was working towards change.

“I will, Cy. Let’s skedaddle, we’ve got places to be, people to see,” Eurydice said, slinging her arm through Cypress’. She tried to push all thoughts of Johanna out of her mind – she needed to focus.

They headed towards the door, stopping only for Cypress to buy two fresh, green pears. He chucked one at Eurydice, who caught in mid-air, and Cypress gave her a grin. “Being a Victor does have its perks, even with the drawbacks.”

“Oh yeah?” Eurydice said, taking a big bite of her pear. Juice dribbled down her chin and she wiped it away with her sleeve, savouring the sweetness of the fruit. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, having been out and about all day, and had only remembered her hunger after tasting the pear on her tongue.

“Well, I have contacts now,” said Cypress. “I have control over my life. Sometimes that’s worth it.”

“Even though half the time you aren’t lucid?” Eurydice asked. Cypress often got ‘stuck’ in his own head – he would wander around the Victor’s Village, screaming at people who weren’t there, and would only ‘wake up’ when Myrtle took him back inside. He stayed holed up in his bedroom more often than not. That was why they had been so pleased when he found something to occupy himself with – even if that thing was trying to organise an uprising in District Seven.

“Yeah,” said Cypress.

Eurydice raised her eyebrows. “Wow.”

They arrived at the meet-up place. It was an old ash tree, one that was so old and so huge the Capitol had agreed to leave it alone. It would take a lot of time and manpower to cut down, anyway. It was on the outskirts of town, in view of other people but away from listening ears. People often met up there, whether for picnics, trysts, or organising a rebellion. Well, that was what their little group was doing, anyway – she couldn’t speak for anyone else.

Hollis and Tamora were leaning against the tree, chatting amicably. Or, Hollis was chatting amicably and Tamora was staring off into space, nodding occasionally.

“Welcome!” Hollis said, catching sight of them. She was in her twenties, and worked with Perry in the paper mill. Eurydice didn’t know much else about her – not even her last name. They weren’t meant to tell each other things, but of course Hollis and Tamora knew who they were – a Victor and a Victor’s granddaughter do not find it easy to stay out of the limelight. “We were beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Sorry about that,” said Cypress.

“Did you deliver everything?” Eurydice asked. Perry had somehow invented a type of paper that, when held up to heat, revealed an otherwise invisible message. In this case, the message had a date, time, and location, the date being one week from now, and the location being Mu’s bar.

“Yeah,” said Hollis. Tamora nodded.

“And everyone knows what to do, where to go?” Cypress said.

Hollis huffed. “I said yeah, Cypress, we did everything we were meant to.”

“What about you, Cy?” Tamora cut in, with a glance at Hollis, who had a short temper that almost – _almost –_ rivalled Johanna’s. “Did you get everything done?”

Cypress shrugged. “Well, Mu needs a little more convincing, but I’m not against bribing people.”

“Well, do that then,” Tamora said.

“Love how Perry makes us do all the dirty work,” Hollis said with a scowl. “I swear, if he doesn’t show up next week, I’ll set his house on fire.”

“That wouldn’t be very productive,” Eurydice said.

Hollis stuck out her tongue and made a rude noise. “Well, what’s he doing? Nothing. He makes us do the dirty work, risk our necks, and then he doesn’t even show up to the meetings.”

“Hol, he is organising about five groups across the whole district,” Tamora pointed out. “Not just us.”

“Well, I agree with you, Hollis,” Eurydice said. “The least the bastard could do is show up once in a while.” She knew that Perry had a lot on his hands – but so did they. Organising a revolution wasn’t easy. And they weren’t even getting compensation – not that she, Cypress, or Myrtle needed it, of course, but it was the thought that counted.

“See, that’s what I’m saying!” Hollis said, giving Eurydice a high-five. “We could do so much better than him. Hey, where’s Myrtle, by the way?” she said, addressing Cypress.

He leaned in, looking around them anxiously, even though there was no-one around to hear him. “She’s organising the axes to be sent to Six.”

“How is she doing that, exactly? Perry wouldn’t tell me,” Hollis asked.

“Well, we’re not meant to tell each other, are we?” said Cypress with a frown. “She hasn’t told me how she’s doing it, only what she’s doing.”

“Well, I hope it turns out okay,” said Hollis, patting him on the arm, before clapping her hands. “Now, has anyone gotten the Peacekeepers schedule yet?”

“Oh!” said Tamora. “Yes, I forgot to say, I saw Dom this afternoon. He didn’t write it down, but the Peacekeepers scheduled to Mu’s street on the day we want is Valerius and Maria.”

Dominic was from Two, which was a district usually loyal to the Capitol, but Dom worked for them. Well, for Perry, but he told them what they needed to know about the Peacekeepers, and tried to get himself assigned to places where they were working. He was currently meant to be helping Myrtle smuggle axes and other things to the workers from District Six, who Eurydice had no idea where they took them.

“What are they like?” Eurydice asked. There was a good selection of Peacekeepers in their district – some were cool-headed and just in it for the pay check. But some of them were in it because they got to beat people up.

Tamora shrugged, and chewed on a lock of her auburn hair. “Dom said that Valerius is a brute, but easily distracted. Maria is sharp as a tack and as brutish as it gets.”

Cypress whistled. “Well, that ain’t good.”

“No, but if we just keep it quiet –“ Eurydice began.

Hollis scoffed. “And how are we meant to do that? We gave out about seventy slips.”

“We can cause a scuffle outside,” Eurydice suggested. “Distract the Peacekeepers, cause a lot of noise, I don’t know.”

“Won’t that require them to call even more Peacekeepers? That’s the last thing we need,” said Tamora.

Eurydice shrugged. “We won’t be long.” They weren’t planning on being long, anyway. All they needed to do was speak about their cause, tell people what they could do, and then leave as though they’d never even been there. Easy-peasy.

“Is Mu’s really the best place for this?” Tamora said, a slight tremble in her voice giving away her anxiety. When she had first met Tamora, so meek and reluctant, Eurydice had wondered why she had gotten involved with their cause at all. But then she remembered – Tamora had lost her younger brother, Alder, to the Games a couple of years back, and Eurydice supposed that Tamora was fighting back the only way she could.

“Where else?” Hollis asked her. “The forests are locked when there’s no shifts, in case you hadn’t noticed. The Town Square is a no-no – too many Peacekeepers. Cypress’ place is big enough, but seventy people gathering there would be suspicious.”

“But Mu’s, on the other hand, often gets up to a hundred people, and especially during the Games. We can be loud there, and it won’t matter, because it’s a goddamn bar, and bars are loud,” Cypress said.

“The Peacekeepers are really the main problem,” Eurydice added.

“Won’t most of them be in the Town Square though, because of the crowd?” Tamora asked.

“Probably,” said Cypress with a nod. “But there are always one or two on patrol in town.”

“What if we went upstairs?” Eurydice said suddenly. The bar had big windows, which could be bad -anyone could look through and see them, and if even the slightest hint of what they were doing got out, people would soon figure out who was involved. But Eurydice had an idea.

Hollis frowned. “Huh?”

“We could get Mu to close the bar for a night, say he’s sick or some shit,” said Eurydice. “And then people could go round the back in twos or threes.” It could work – she had never been upstairs herself. In fact, she wasn’t even meant to go to the bar – but she and Johanna had snuck in a couple of times, to go dancing. Eurydice always gave Mu extra coins so he wouldn’t tell her mama or Johanna’s folks where they had been.

“That would get rid of the Peacekeeper problem,” said Tamora. “But how are we meant to fit seventy people upstairs?”

“I thought Perry had organised this,” Hollis said, a tinge of annoyance in her voice.

Eurydice gave a dry little chuckle. “Perry takes care of the big picture stuff. He doesn’t do details – that’s what _we’re_ meant to cover.”

“Doesn’t he realise that the big picture stuff doesn’t work without the little details?” Hollis asked, crossing her arms.

“Apparently not,” said Eurydice.

They lapsed into silence, watching a pair of squirrels twist their way up the trunk. Eurydice wasn’t worried – well, she was a little bit worried. But they would figure something out, they always did.

Cypress broke the silence after a little while. “We’ll figure it out. Mu can-“

“Mu hasn’t even said yes yet,” said Hollis impatiently.

“I told you he will,” Cypress said. “When I offer him money.”

“How much?” asked Tamora.

Cypress smiled. “I was thinking 100 aurei.”

Hollis whistled. “Well, how can he turn that down?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

“What if he snitches?” Tamora asked, hugging herself – Eurydice had noticed the temperature drop too, and shivered. But maybe it wasn’t the temperature – though she would never admit it, of course, Eurydice was slightly nervous about what they were doing, too.

“He won’t,” said Cypress, with utter confidence.

Tamora didn’t look convinced. “But how do we know that?”

“I’m telling you, he won’t,” Cypress assured her. “Not with that amount of money.”

“I’m pretty sure he values his life over 100 aurei,” Tamora said. Eurydice could see her point.

Cypress shook his head. “We’re not going to die, and neither is he, so it won’t matter.”

“What if someone else snitches?” asked Tamora.

“We only gave slips to those we know are connected to the rebel cause, remember, Tam?” said Hollis, patting her on the back. “No-one’s going to snitch, and neither will Mu.”

“Well, okay then,” said Tamora, still looking uncomfortable.

“Tamora, you know you don’t have to come, right?” Cypress said.

She sighed, and dropped her eyes to the ground, kicking up dirt. “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried about you guys.”

Hollis slung an arm around Tamora’s shoulder. “Well, I’m not going either, Tam, and these guys are protected. Cypress is a Victor, Myrtle is Cypress’ sister, and Eurydice is the granddaughter of a Victor.”

“Okay,” Tamora said, giving them a small smile. “Just – be careful, okay?”

“Course we will,” Eurydice said, nudging Tamora with her elbow. “Anyway, it’ll take more than a couple of Peacekeepers to bring me down. I’m a bad bitch.”

“Yes you are, Eurydice,” Hollis laughed. “We’d better get going, now, it’s late.”

“Aw, shit, you’re right. Mama’s going to skin me alive,” Eurydice said.

0o0o

Cypress walked Eurydice home, making sure she got to the door before heading off to find Myrtle. “See you tomorrow, Cy.”

Seven was usually pretty safe, especially during the Games when everyone was glued to the televisions. But you could never be too careful, especially as a young girl – after dark especially was a dangerous time, and it was not uncommon to see a drunkard or two stumbling through the streets. Eurydice could handle herself, of course, but Cypress was very paranoid, and didn’t trust people. He made it his personal mission to look out for Myrtle and Eurydice. He would try to look out for Johanna, too, if she would let him, but she never did. Eurydice often thought it was to make up for killing people in his Games, although of course he had no choice.

Opening the door, she slid off her shoes and put them by the door. “Mama, I’m home.”

“In here,” called her mother from the kitchen. She was sitting at the counter, reading a book. There was something delicious-smelling in the oven, and Eurydice hoped it was pie. Her mama made good pie.

“Hi, Mama,” said Eurydice, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Smells amazing in here.”

Her mother ignored the compliment, and set her book down, looking at her daughter with raised eyebrows. “Where have you been, Eurydice?”

“Oh, you know. Here and there and everywhere,” Eurydice replied in an offhand manner. Her mother didn’t approve of her hanging around Cypress, Myrtle and their friends. Even though Eurydice’s mother had grown up around and with half-deranged Victors, she _really_ didn’t like Cypress – she didn’t trust him, even though what he had done in the arena of course shouldn’t be held against him now that he was home, no matter how atrocious.

Her mother seemed to take the thought right out of Eurydice’s head. “You haven’t been off with Cypress again, have you, Eurydice? You know I don’t like you running with that crowd. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Eurydice feigned innocence – _damnit._ She couldn’t fool anyone, least of all her mother. “Of course I haven’t, Mama, do you take me for a common rogue?”

Mama smirked. “Sometimes I do.”

Eurydice put her hand over her heart and pretended to swoon like she was a fancy Capitol lady. “Mama, my goodness! I would never.”

“If you say so, Eurydice,” Mama said, looking at her suspiciously. Eurydice could tell that she wasn’t buying it. “I must admit, I was surprised at Johanna’s score. From memory, she is quite talented with an axe.”

The training scores had come out the day before, and Eurydice had been elated when she saw Johanna’s – she was obviously doing a fantastic job at fooling everybody. Johanna was probably, at this very moment, working on her interview angle, not that she needed to – if Johanna had managed to fool Mama, who had known Johanna since she was small, that she was a helpless cry baby, Eurydice was sure that she had managed to convince everyone else, too.

“That’s her strategy, Mama,” Eurydice said, filling up the kettle and putting it on the stove to make tea. “She’s trying to come across as weak so the other tributes leave her alone.”

Mama nodded. “Ah, that makes sense. Well, she’s certainly doing a good job. I wonder how hard it’s been for her to keep a hold of that tongue of hers.”

“Pretty hard, I’d say,” Eurydice said with a laugh, before becoming serious. “But she’s a good actress, too. She can do it. She can come home.”

“I know she can do it,” Mama smiled, and took Eurydice’s hand across the table. “If there’s anyone who can, it’s Johanna.”

Eurydice sighed. She believed it – she did. Her girlfriend was not a force to be reckoned with, as the other tributes would soon find out. She knew that Johanna was more than capable of winning, but she also knew what the arena did to a person – whether Johanna won or not, some part of her would die in the Games. Eurydice just didn’t know what part of her that would be yet. “I’m just worried that she’ll lose her temper and ruin everything by calling someone a cankering whore.”

Mama raised her eyebrows, and Eurydice grinned at her. “That’s a very… _specific_ insult, Eurydice.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time she’s called someone a cankering whore, is all I’m saying.” It was easier to make fun, than to sit in the silence and worry – some people had been surprised at how well Eurydice was handling things. And outwardly, she was handling things very well. Inwardly, however, things were another story. She should have volunteered – _why didn’t I volunteer? –_ and she hadn’t even apologised to Jo for not volunteering. And Johanna hadn’t brought it up, though of course she wouldn’t have. But Eurydice felt almost sick with guilt – she could have saved Johanna, and she didn’t.

“She’ll be alright,” Mama said comfortingly. “Your grandmother got Blight, Oscar and Cypress out of the arena – she can get Johanna out, too,” Mama told her. Mama had been born ten years after Noni won, and had lived her whole life in the Victor’s Village. Noni refused to tell anyone who Mama’s father was, though, and though they had tried, they hadn’t been able to get the information from her.

“I know,” said Eurydice. “Noni’s a great mentor.” _And Johanna’s a great actor, and will probably make a fantastic axe-murderer._

“Yes, she is, and Johanna will be back before you know it. In the meantime, you stay out of trouble, young lady,” Mama said sternly, pointing a finger at Eurydice.

Eurydice grinned at her. “Of course I will, Mama, why wouldn’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is Eurydice. I hope you like her – I do, and you’ll be seeing a bit more of her in this fic.
> 
> I hope I’m making sense, with the uprising thing. All will be revealed, so bear with me.
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter, and our darling Jojo will be back next chapter for the interviews! Yay!


	7. An Illusion of Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna embarrasses herself yet again at the interviews, much to her delight. She and Elm go over last-minute survival tactics with the mentors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Grace by Jeff Buckley

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse: Johanna Mason**

“Hold _still,_ girl, for Snow’s sake,” Nona snapped, tugging on Johanna’s hair. Nona had dressed her in a long, emerald green gown, with high heels so tall that Johanna could probably stab Caesar to death with them if she felt like it.

“Sorry,” Johanna whispered, clenching her hands into fists by her sides. Her prep team worked on her face – Magnolia had requested that they accentuate her eyes, so the mascara lines would be even more noticeable when Johanna started to cry, although of course she hadn’t told Nona that.

Johanna knew exactly what she was going to say, how she was going to walk (or fall) across the stage, how she would sit. The majority of tributes, as far as Johanna was aware of, had no idea about her strategy. It was really only Maizy who needed further convincing – and Johanna wasn’t even sure if it would be necessary, because Maizy had her own plans. Johanna seriously doubted that Maizy would drop everything just to kill Johanna because she _might_ be hiding something. That would be ludicrous, and would mean that Maizy was overly paranoid – and Johanna didn’t think that Maizy was the type to be overly paranoid about anything.

“There,” Nona said. “Wasn’t so hard to sit still, was it, girl?”

“My name is Johanna,” said Johanna.

“I’m well aware of that, girl,” said Nona, with a nasty little smile. _One day,_ thought Johanna, _one day I’ll poke your eyes out with a fork._ “I swear to Snow, if you cry, I will…” Nona paused, evidently not sure what she would do – in her mind, Johanna was probably almost dead already. Little did she know. “I suppose it doesn’t matter too much.”

Even though she couldn’t say much for Nona’s fashion sense or personality, Johanna had to admit that she was a good hairstylist. Johanna’s hair was in a half-updo, with small leaves elegantly braided into her hair – nothing like the monstrosity of a headpiece Nona had made her wear for the parade.

“Thank you very much, Madam Glib,” Johanna said sweetly, imagining Nona burning to death.

Turning her head from side to side, running her hands down the sleek satin of the gown, Johanna smiled. For the first time since she had arrived in the Capitol, Johanna looked good. And she liked that feeling. Of course, when she scrunched up her face to wail like a child, the illusion of beauty would be shattered. But for now, Johanna looked like herself – for now, Johanna could be the person she wanted to be.

0o0o

“I actually don’t look like a piece of shit for once. I’m surprised Nona had it in her,” Johanna remarked, after Magnolia had sent Nona and the prep team out of the room, wanting to discuss her strategy one more time before they left for the interviews.

“Oh, hush, Johanna,” said Magnolia, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “You look beautiful. It is a shame that you have to ruin it with the crying, but remember that we do not want-“

Johanna cut her off, rolling her eyes. “We don’t want any attention, yeah yeah, I got it.”

“You remember what we discussed?”

“Yes, Magnolia, I fucking got it,” snapped Johanna, twisting her green beaded bracelet around her wrist. She was slightly nervous, no matter how much she pretended that she wasn’t – this interview could mean life or death. This interview was necessary, one of the final pieces in her plan. And tomorrow, in the arena, once she was alone, Johanna wouldn’t have to pretend she was a whiny little shit anymore. Tomorrow, Johanna could be herself again, although she was starting to wonder what that meant.

“I was just checking,” Magnolia said, looking slightly affronted.

Johanna thought Magnolia should be used to it by now, but felt slightly guilty, and let out a sigh. “I know.”

“It is okay to be nervous,” said Magnolia.

Johanna scowled. “I’m not nervous.” She _was_ nervous, very nervous, but there was not a snowball’s chance in hell she was ever going to admit that.

Magnolia gave her a small smile. “I know you aren’t.”

Johanna felt a flicker of frustration. “Then why’d you say it’s okay to be nervous?”

“I always say that to my tributes,” said Magnolia, reaching forward and adjusting one of the leaves in Johanna’s hair, which was coming loose from the up do. “Each and every one of them.”

Johanna smacked her hand away. “Does it help them at all?”

Magnolia pretended to think, stroking an imaginary beard. “Well, considering the fact that I have only gotten three of them out of the arena, no it does not.”

“Then why do you say it?” Johanna asked. She didn’t see the point – they seemed like empty words. Lies, even. It was not okay to be nervous, not here, because the interviews meant sponsors or no sponsors- and in Johanna’s case, it meant whether or not she would be chased down at the Bloodbath by Maizy and her allies.

“I think that it is better than saying nothing,” Magnolia replied, and looked down at the floor.

Johanna shrugged. “I guess. But wouldn’t you rather say nothing than be annoying?”

Magnolia grinned, though there was a hint of sadness in her bright blue eyes. “Touché. Now, do not forget what-“

“Magnolia, I’m not going to forget, we went through it a million times,” Johanna said in exasperation. She knew the importance of memorising her lines, but she _knew_ them, inside and out, and Magnolia getting her to repeat them countless times did nothing but make her annoyed.

“Then what are you meant to do?” Magnolia asked.

“Fall over, cry, stutter, vomit if I can.”

“Excellent. Now, you go out there and be the train wreck that I know you are.”

Johanna gave her a very rude hand gesture, hoping for a reaction, but Magnolia only grinned.

0o0o

The tributes all lined up to walk out onstage. The girl from One went out first to loud cheers and whistles, looking stunning in a beautiful yellow gown that seemed to make her glow. Johanna was jealous – One would be able to keep her beauty out there.

Maizy and Scythe were talking in hushed voices a couple of tributes behind her, and she strained her ears to listen. She couldn’t catch anything – she had hoped they would talk about their plan for the Cornucopia, but they wouldn’t have been that stupid – there were too many people around to hear them. And they were being incredibly quiet, too, impossible to hear over the roar of the crowd –

“Johanna! Go!” Elm said, giving her a little shove, and Johanna startled, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard her cue. _Shit._ She had to stop doing that – it wouldn’t be good in the arena.

She limped out onto the stage, visibly shaking, and had almost reached her chair when – WHAM. She sprawled onto the stage, and the audience roared with laughter. Elm hurried across the stage from the wings to help her up, and she let big, fat tears drip down her cheeks, hopefully lining her face with mascara.

Johanna knew the whole country was probably watching her. She wondered what Eurydice was thinking, and Bear, and Rowan, and her parents.

The interviews went by in a blur, and Johanna didn’t pay much attention to the first six, until it was the girl from Four’s turn. Marin.

 _Oh shit, she has a kid,_ Johanna thought, as the girl talked about her infant daughter. This would make it far harder to kill her, if Johanna ever encountered her in the arena, that is. She would not just be killing a person, but stealing a mother away from her child, and Johanna didn’t quite know what to think of that. The idea of murder didn’t appeal to her at all, but the idea of killing a mother was just a different level of wrong. Not that killing children wasn’t wrong, but she would be leaving a child an orphan and the idea of that just made her feel ill.

The cheeky-looking boy from District 5 – Cassian - also stuck in her head, for some reason – there was just something about his attitude, his demeanour, that told her he would last a long time, despite his size. He talked about his younger twin sisters, and had the audience cracking up when he told them a funny story.

Blood pounded in Johanna’s ears all the way through the stuttering boy from Six’s interview – Elm reached over and squeezed her hand. She was surprised at the gesture, as she and Elm weren’t close, but she appreciated it nevertheless and shot him a small smile.

“Thank you, Evander, I wish you the best of luck. And now, may I present to you – Johanna Mason, District Seven!” Caesar said, giving her that familiar grin, the grin she’d seen so many times on the TV, the grin she wished she wasn’t seeing in person. There was a polite applause from the audience – she hadn’t been expecting much, considering her performance so far.

“Johanna, I have to say – what an entrance you made just now!” Caesar said jovially, and the audience laughed. Johanna let her chin tremble, and looked down at her clasped hands. Caesar looked slightly surprised at her reaction, evidently expecting a giggle or some shit – well, a giggle he would not receive. Idiot.

“Tell me, Johanna, what’s it like in District Seven? I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting.”

“It’s… leafy,” mumbled Johanna. _I bet Eurydice’s laughing at that one,_ she thought.

Caesar chuckled, and shook his head in amusement. “Well, I should certainly hope so! And do you have anyone waiting for you at home?”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask who, exactly?”

“My family. My gi- my best friend.” Better to not tell them she had a girlfriend – better to not seem desirable. It would take away from her pettiness.

“And was that your friend we saw with you, at the reaping?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s her name?” Caesar prompted.

Johanna fiddled with her dress. “Eurydice.”

“What a beautiful name! Did she come and say goodbye?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did she say?”

“She told me I could win.” At that, one of the Careers laughed loudly – she thought it was the girl from Two. It was the perfect prompt to start crying, and Johanna bit her lip, hard. Eyes watering, she looked up, finally, and let the tears spill over when the cameras caught her face.

Caesar patted her hand gently. “I have every faith that you can, Johanna. We all love an underdog, after all! Don’t we, folks?” he said, addressing the audience, and someone cheered. Well, maybe she would get a sponsor after all. “And what did you say to her, Johanna?”

“I told her… I told her…” Johanna burst into tears, and covered her face with her hands. “I told her she was wrong!”

 _You could hear a pin drop,_ Johanna thought smugly. Caesar didn’t even blink, though, he was evidently used to dealing with sobbing teenagers.

“Well, Johanna, can I offer my opinion?”

She nodded as meekly as she could.

“I don’t think you should give up on yourself just yet. I certainly haven’t, I promise you that.”

“Well, you should!” she sobbed, and even Caesar didn’t seem to know what to say to that.

“Tell you what, Johanna,” began Caesar, after a pause that felt eons long. “When you’re in the arena, just you remember that I believe in you.”

“Don’t waste your time,” said Johanna. “There’s – there’s – there’s no chance!” she said, and let out a long, drawn-out wail. Someone in the audience groaned – it sounded suspiciously like Nona.

All Caesar could do for the rest of the interview was pat her on the back and hand her tissues – she wouldn’t say anything else, and Caesar was left to compliment her dress, and her hair, and talk about how much he loved trees and how he hoped to one day visit Seven. It was hilarious to listen to, but Johanna didn’t laugh.

When she walked off the stage, she stomped her foot down as hard as she could without being obvious. Her heel broke with a loud snap, and Johanna went tumbling to the ground. The audience didn’t bother holding in their laughter, nor did the Careers, and as Johanna stumbled her way back to her chair, she was happy.

She caught Maizy’s eye when she sat down, and was even happier. Maizy’s face was the picture of disgust, and pity, and possibly embarrassment – of course she would be embarrassed, she had been worrying about the strategy of a sobbing, stumbling, simpering fool, after all.

0o0o

Dinner was a quiet affair. Partly because Arabella was still nowhere to be seen, and partly because everyone at the table was well aware that soon two of their number would not be with them.

Magnolia insisted that they each eat a lot of pasta. “Pasta has carbs, and you’ll need them as you will be doing a lot of running tomorrow.”

“What are carbs?” Elms asked, his mouth full.

“Carbohydrates. They are stored as a form of energy called glycogen in your muscles and liver, and when running long distances, it is the easiest type of energy for your body to access,” Magnolia said, spooning more onto each of their plates. “So eat up.”

Johanna ate as much as she could, though she barely tasted the food, delicious as she knew it was. She had never heard of a carbohydrate or a glycogen before, but Magnolia knew her stuff. The mentors finished their meals before she and Elm did, and they leaned back in their chairs, watching the two of them eat, pushing more food towards them when they cleaned their plates.

“No more,” said Johanna after three plates of pasta and heavy cream sauce, wondering if she looked as green as she felt.

Elm let out a long, loud burp, and Magnolia shook her head, trying not to laugh. “Manners,” she said.

“Sorry,” Elm said with a grin, and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Do either of you have any last questions?” asked Blight, looking from Elm to Johanna, prominent worry lines on his forehead.

“Do we have sponsors?” Elm asked immediately. Magnolia and Blight glanced at each other, and Johanna couldn’t quite read their expressions. She knew the answer, anyway – after her performance and Elm’s mediocrity, there was no way that they had sponsors, not when you considered the far stronger, far more capable tributes.

Blight sighed. “I’m going to be honest. As of right now, no, you do not. You two had a big disadvantage this year – usually there aren’t so many capable tributes from the outer districts, a lot of the sponsors went to Nine and Ten. However, Magnolia and I each have connections, so we may be able to organise something soon.”

“Well, hurry,” Elm said. Johanna wondered how far he would make it into the Games. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long – he was much bigger than she was.

“We will,” Blight promised, and there was something in Blight’s face that told her she was telling the truth.

“What’s something you wish you had known in the arena?” Johanna asked. The mentors seemed to love the question, and all of them began talking over each other.

“You can stretch a day’s worth of water over two or three, if you’re careful,” Oscar said.

“You can eat roses. And bugs, but avoid brightly coloured ones.”

“Your body loses heat way slower in air than it does in water.”

“If your clothing becomes damp, dry yourself off as soon as possible.”

“Don’t trust _anyone._ Under any circumstances whatsoever,” Blight said, a solemn look on his face. “Everyone wants to get home just as much as you do.” Johanna remembered Blight telling them that his district partner had almost killed him, and she snuck a quick glance at Elm, who didn’t seem to notice.

“It is getting late,” Magnolia said, looking at her wristwatch. “Go and get ready for bed, and be back here in half an hour.”

“Why?” asked Johanna.

“I have something to help you sleep, but you need to digest your food a bit first.”

Johanna and Elm stood up and pushed in their chairs, leaving the four Victors alone to their conversation.

“How are you?” Elm said awkwardly.

“I’m absolutely stellar, thank you so much for asking,” Johanna said. _Oops. That was too much like the Johanna I’m currently not meant to be._ “Sorry. Nerves,” she said hastily, trying to make up for her sarcasm. “How are you?”

Elm gave her a funny look, but didn’t say anything. She hoped that he believed her excuse of nerves and not that she was masking her true personality. “I’m alright. Nervous. Scared.”

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Johanna said with a small laugh.

“Yeah,” said Elm. _God, he’s so awkward. It’s adorable,_ Johanna thought with amusement. It was good for her, though – it was hard to get to know him, and if she didn’t know him, she would be less upset when he died. As well as that, since Elm didn’t know her well, he couldn’t tell that she was bluffing.

“Well,” said Johanna when they reached their rooms, trying to be as awkward as Elm. “We’re here.”

“Yeah. See you,” Elm said.

Johanna had gotten changed into more comfortable clothes after the interviews, but hadn’t had time to shower or wash the make-up from her face before dinner. Kicking her shoes off, she headed to the bathroom, stepping over the evening gown she had unceremoniously dumped on the floor. She made the water extra hot, because who knew if she’d ever be able to enjoy a long, hot shower again?

0o0o

Blight handed them each a large mug of chamomile tea when they arrived back in the dining room, freshly showered. Johanna didn’t realise quite how grimy the heavy makeup had made her feel until she had scrubbed it off her face.

Sniffing the mug, Johanna looked up and frowned at her mentor. “This is just tea.”

“I crushed up sleeping pills and put them in, along with honey. We give this to all of our tributes the night before the Games,” Magnolia replied.

“It’ll take a while to kick in, but you should be asleep in about an hour after drinking,” Blight added.

“Excellent,” said Johanna, taking a sip. It burnt her tongue, and she fanned her mouth with her free hand. “Give it a bit, Elm, or it’ll burn a hole through your tongue.”

“Yes, sorry, it’s hot, I forgot to say,” Blight said, looking slightly guilty. “I think we’d better split up now. Johanna, if I don’t see you, I wish you the best of luck in there. It has been a privilege getting to know you,” Blight said, and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

She shook it – maybe Blight wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Well – bye, Elm,” Johanna said, giving him a quick hug.

“Bye, Johanna,” he replied. They didn’t say anything else. They didn’t need to.

Johanna wondered if it was the last time she would ever see him. She hoped it would be, because if he took her by surprise in the arena with intent of killing her, she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to overpower him. But she also hoped it wouldn’t be the last time – he was from home, after all, and even if she didn’t know him, she didn’t want him to die, irrational as that was. But he had to die. He had to die, possibly at her hand, if she was going to get back to her Eurydice, her family.

“Come and sit, Johanna,” Magnolia said, taking her arm and leading her to the sitting room. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think?” Johanna snapped, and then sighed. “Sorry.” She knew she treated Magnolia badly, but it was kind of refreshing to let it all out – Magnolia was the only person here she could be herself around, after all.

Magnolia clicked her tongue and shook her head, her long grey hair falling in her eyes. “You do not need to be sorry, it was a silly question on my part. Now, before you drink that tea, there is something I need you to remember.”

Johanna frowned into her mug. “What, will this make me forget?”

“No. But we can never be too careful.”

“What is it that you need me to remember?” Johanna asked.

“Dark blue.”

“Huh?” _Has she finally gone senile?_ Johanna wondered. What the hell was dark blue supposed to mean?

“Dark blue, I need you to remember those words.”

“O…kay?” Johanna said slowly, eyebrows raised so high she wouldn’t have been surprised if they had disappeared into her hairline. Was it a code, or something?

“Please,” Magnolia said, a hint of desperation in her voice. “Remember.”

Johanna shrugged. If Magnolia was acting so weird, it must be important. “Dark blue, dark blue, dark blue, dark blue. Got it.”

“Dark blue,” Magnolia repeated.

“Fucking dark blue!” she said, annoyed. “Dark blue!”

“Good,” Magnolia said. “You can do it, you know. Win.”

Johanna rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you think that. Hopefully everyone else in Panem does not think that.”

“After your interview, I would be extremely surprised if they didn’t,” said Magnolia with a wry grin.

Johanna let out a mirthless laugh. “So I did good, then?”

“You did good,” Magnolia agreed.

Johanna pretended to wipe sweat from her brow. “Thank the dryads.”

“Thank you, dryads!”

“Funny,” Johanna said, smirking and shaking her head. “Very funny.” She took a sip of the tea – it was no longer scalding, but it was still uncomfortably hot.

It was raining outside, despite it being summertime. Johanna watched the raindrops race each other down the glass, and wondered how tomorrow would go. There were only two outcomes – either she lived, or she died. And considering past Games – considering the trauma she had seen first-hand; Johanna wasn’t sure which option was worse.

“Magnolia,” she said quietly.

Magnolia turned to her. “Yes?”

“If I die in there – and don’t say that I won’t, I’m not an idiot and I know that I might.”

“I know that you’re not an idiot.”

“Good. If I die in there, please make sure my family gets by,” Johanna said, looking at her hands. Taking a deep breath, she raised her gaze and continued. “Rowan’s going to need someone who knows me as well as she does, so please force Eurydice over to my place. Bear and my mother both adore Sylvia, so I’m sure they would appreciate her company. And Da, well, I don’t know. Make sure he eats. Mom won’t be able to make him.”

Not for the first time since she had arrived in the Capitol, Johanna worried about her family. About how they would get by, without the extra income she brought in from working in the forests. About how they would cope with her death. About whether or not they would take care of themselves and each other – about whether they would even want to.

Magnolia cupped Johanna’s face in her hands, looking at her seriously. “I promise that I will look after your family, and I am sure that Sylvia and Eurydice would be delighted to help in any way that they can. I sincerely hope that it won’t come to that. But you have my word.” Sylvia was Eurydice’s Mama, Magnolia’s daughter.

“Thank you. And-“ Johanna hesitated.

“And?”

“Eurydice. I just-“ Tears were forming in her eyes, real ones, and she blinked them away furiously. The Capitol had already taken her away from her home, her loved ones – she wouldn’t let them take any more tears from her, too. Real ones, that is. _God,_ she thought. _I’m actually turning into the snivelling bitch I’m pretending to be._

Magnolia took her hand. “Eurydice will be just fine. I’ll make sure of it. Now, can you promise me something?”

Johanna nodded.

“When you are in the arena…” Magnolia hesitated. “When you are in the arena, throw your morals out the window. Holding onto them will only bring you death.”

“What are you saying?” Johanna asked slowly, although she already had a pretty good idea of what Magnolia meant.

“Be as selfish as you possibly can,” Magnolia clarified.

Johanna scoffed. “Well, I wasn’t planning on going in there and starting a charity.”

Magnolia gave her a satisfied nod. “Good.”

“Dark blue,” said Johanna, taking another sip of her tea and looking back out the rain-covered window.

“Dark blue,” Magnolia agreed.

0o0o

When she got back to her room, half-empty mug in hand, she practiced throwing her knives a bit more. She had learnt some valuable tips during training, and she kept them in mind. Three out of five of her knives hit the bullseye. Happy with that result, Johanna cleared them away, and downed the rest of the tea in one gulp. She set the mug down on her nightstand and wandered into the bathroom, her eyelids already growing heavy with sleep.

She quickly brushed her teeth, fighting to stay awake, and got into the huge, soft bed. She was so tired that she barely even had to wait for the tea to work its magic, but even that couldn’t save her from the nightmares.


	8. Marin: Sunshine and Tea Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marin's take on the interview. She and Solomon have one last moment of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Sinking Ship by Wild Child

**Capitol, District Four’s Penthouse: Marin Callahan**

Marin twirled in her dress, which was the beautiful crystal blue of the ocean back home. It stopped a little above her knees, and had a plunging neckline that Marin wasn’t too fond of, but the dress was soft and floaty and somehow looked as though it were water woven into fabric.

“Well, I’m not sure about this neckline, Aeliana,” said Marin with a slight frown. “But this is a beautiful dress.”

Her stylist smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it.”

“My hair?” Marin asked, touching her newly trimmed hair, which Aeliana hadn’t done anything with. It was shorter than she’d ever worn it, at her shoulders, but she liked the way it looked.

“I think we’ll leave it down, I just need to put anti-frizz spray on it. It’s lovely and shiny,” Aeliana replied, running a brush through it.

“I always thought it was too mousy,” Marin replied, touching her hair self-consciously.

“It _is_ mousy, but that’s not a bad thing,” said Aeliana. She picked up a can of hairspray and took a step back. “Close your eyes. Also, don’t breathe.” She sprayed Marin’s hair, and brushed it one more time before clapping her hands. “Beautiful!”

“Thank you, Aeliana.”

“You’re very welcome, Marin,” Aeliana said, adjusting the pearls around her neck. “Now, remember to use your beauty to your advantage. Meredith told me your angle.”

Meredith was another one of Four’s Victors, and was insisting that Marin have a sexy angle for her interview. Marin didn’t really like that idea – for starters, Topaz had said she was probably going to use that angle, as many girls from One did. Second, if Marin died in the arena, she didn’t want Minnow to watch the tapes and see Marin not being herself. And Marin was not sexy, nor did she particularly want to be. “Yeah,” Marin said with a sigh.

“You’re going to do great,” Aeliana said, and gave Marin’s cheek a little pat. “Now, I believe your mentors wish to see you.”

Aeliana left, and Mags and Meredith bustled in. They looked her up and down for a moment, before grinning widely.

“Very nice work, Aeliana!” Meredith called after the stylist, sticking her head out the door. “Very sexy.”

“But Meredith, I don’t _want_ to be sexy,” Marin complained.

“Sometimes it’s not about what you want to do, it’s about what you have to do,” Mags told her solemnly, giving her a firm pat on the shoulder.

“I know that, Mags. But it’s not – it’s not _me,_ ” Marin tried to explain.

Meredith scoffed. “Do you think the audience cares whether it’s authentic or not? In the Capitol, they like pretty things. They covet pretty things. Have you ever wondered why there are so many beautiful Victors?”

“Sponsors,” Marin muttered. She knew it; of course she did. But if she died in the arena, she didn’t want to be remembered as something she wasn’t.

“Yes, sweetie, sponsors,” Meredith said, in a mock-sweet voice. “And how do we get sponsors?”

“By being the person the audience wants us to be,” Marin answered dutifully. This line, among many others, had been fed to her for years in the Academy.

“Ding ding ding. I don’t want to hear any more complaining, young lady,” said Meredith sternly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, Marin,” said Mags with more tenderness than Meredith. “But this is the best angle for you to take – you are beautiful. Everyone can see that. They’re probably expecting you to take this angle.”

Marin let out another sigh. “I know, Mags, I know. I just don’t want to – I don’t want to-“

“You don’t want to be just the object of someone’s fantasy,” Meredith said quietly. Marin looked at her, surprised at the usually ice-cold Victor. “I get it, Marin, I really do. But you don’t have much choice. We spent all day yesterday preparing you for this. There’s no time to change your angle.”

“But won’t people think I’m a slut? I mean, if I play up the sexy angle, and then say that I have a daughter… what are people going to say?”

“It isn’t that uncommon to have a child at your age, not in the districts. It’s more common in the poorer districts, but as you know, it isn’t unheard of in ours. My mother was seventeen when I was born, and no-one ever called her a slut,” Meredith said.

“But I bet she was married,” Marin said bitterly.

Marin wasn’t married, quite the opposite in fact. She had been abandoned by a boy who left with no goodbye, no money, and no care at all regarding the child in her stomach. She had been mocked by people, shunned by people, had lost friends when Morgan had abandoned her, even more when her stomach swelled. And her acting sexy for the interview would only reinforce the opinion of those in her district that she was a slut.

She didn’t understand why she was being treated terribly by the people in her town – she was a good girl, and a good mother. But Morgan was an asshole who she regretted ever being with – Morgan was the one she had turned to for help, Morgan was the one she had trusted most (apart from her sister), and Morgan was the one who used her and then left her to pick up the pieces. But no, Morgan wasn’t the slut, Morgan wasn’t the bad guy, Morgan was still the same guy he’d always been. Marin didn’t find that fair, not at all.

Meredith nodded. “Well, yes, she was engaged. But you–“

“No. It’s okay, Meredith. I’ll do it,” Marin said, looking at her mentors, and the two women breathed sighs of relief.

But Marin knew something they didn’t know, not yet – she wasn’t going to do it. She had the opportunity to control something, possibly her last chance to have control. And she wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity, even if it might be against her better judgement.

0o0o

Topaz _had_ gone for the sexy angle; Marin had thought that she would. Many of District One’s women did, and it had certainly been successful for them. Lapis was easy-going and charming, and the audience sent him of the stage with plenty of cheers.

Vita and Alaric both went for confident, which wasn’t a stretch at all, except of course Vita was as obnoxious as can be while Alaric was quiet and ruthless.

The kids from Three were the typical nervous, twitchy kids – they would probably die in the Bloodbath. _Maybe even at my hand,_ Marin thought, a shudder running through her body. She didn’t want to kill anyone, not at all. But she knew she had to if she wanted to watch Minnow grow up – and she did. She desperately did.

Before long, it was her turn. As Marin walked across the stage, knees knocking together, she wished that Aeliana had put her in a longer dress.

Caesar took her hand and helped her up the stairs, kissing the back of her hand before gesturing for her to sit down.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Caesar,” she said, glad that her voice was steady. She fought down the nerves, and forced a smile onto her face.

“Likewise, Marin! I have to say – you are such a beautiful girl, and you look absolutely stunning tonight! Doesn’t she, folks?”

Marin gave a good-natured laugh. “Thank you, Caesar, you don’t look too bad yourself!”

“So, Marin, have you got anyone waiting for you at home?”

“Yes Caesar, I do. My older sister, Delmare, and…” she looked down at her hands, fighting back the tears that came whenever she thought of her daughter back home.

“And?” Caesar prompted.

What would the audience think of her, what would they say? Should she tell them about Minnow? After a second’s debate, Marin decided to say it. What’s the worst it could do? In a month, she would either be dead or a Victor, and people rarely spoke badly of either.

“My little daughter, Minnow,” Marin said, blinking furiously so as not to cry and ignoring the noises of pity coming from the audience. “She’s only fifteen months old, and she means the world to me. I have to get home to her – I have to.”

“I’m sure you will, Marin. I was very impressed with your training score – what did a tiny thing like you do to earn an eight?”

“Well, Caesar, a mother is never a person to mess with. As you will all find out tomorrow,” Marin said, a small smirk on her face, feeling nauseated at the mere thought of what tomorrow would bring.

“I believe it, I believe it!” Caesar laughed. “I certainly wouldn’t cross my mother, I can tell you that much!” the audience roared with laughter. “Now, Marin, you didn’t volunteer.”

“No, I didn’t. I was planning to at some point, but then I had Minnow when I was seventeen, and, well...” Marin gestured vaguely. “A girl I trai- a girl I went to school with was meant to volunteer this year. I thought I was safe – I took more tesserae than I’ve ever taken. But then I was reaped. And she didn’t volunteer.” If Marin got home, the first thing she would do after hugging Minnow and Delmare would be to track down Leilani and confront her. She wanted answers.

“What was your first thought, after being reaped?”

“I was just thinking about my daughter,” Marin said, her voice breaking on the last word.

“Tell us about her, Marin,” Caesar said gently, patting her hand.

Marin took a deep breath, thinking of her sweet daughter, of her eyes, of her laugh, of her pudgy little hands that grabbed onto Marin’s fingers. “Well, she’s fifteen months old, and she’s really smart – she started walking when she was only 8 months old, and said her first word not long after that.”

“What was her first word?” Caesar asked, seeming as though he genuinely wanted to know.

“Beach! Except, she says it like ‘eech’,” Marin said, laughing, and the audience let out a collective awwww. “Her second word was Mama.”

“You just light up when you talk about your daughter.”

“She’s my sunshine,” Marin said. The audience let out another ‘awww’ and Marin shot them what she hoped was a dazzling smile.

“Now, Marin, your district has been very successful in the last few years, with Finnick Odair winning the 65th Games, and Annie Cresta, of course, winning last year. Tell me - do you think that Four can win two years in a row?”

“I definitely think so. Annie was just amazing last year,” Marin replied, and glanced at her mentors in the audience. Mags gave her an encouraging smile, and she continued. “We in Four learn a lot of helpful skills from a very young age, and I am fortunate enough to know how to use those skills to my advantage. So does Sol, Solomon I mean.”

“I’m sure,” Caesar said good-naturedly. “Now, how do you feel about tomorrow? Are you confident? Scared?”

She took a deep breath and looked down at her hands for a brief moment before answering. “Caesar, I think it’s impossible to not be scared,” Marin answered honestly. She snuck a cautious glance at her allies. “Be that as it may, I trust my skills, and I’m as prepared as I possibly could be.”

“And you’re in the Career alliance, are you not?”

“I am indeed, Caesar. They’re very good allies to have, and I trust them completely,” she lied, although she doubted her allies would believe her. Except Solomon, of course, but she didn’t need to lie to him. “We’re going to make a fantastic team, I can tell.” Marin smiled sweetly, and Topaz cheered from her seat.

“I’m sure you will. I can’t speak for my friends in the audience, but I can tell you that I’ll certainly be keeping tabs on you in the arena!” Caesar said, a wide smile on his face, and the audience cheered once more. “Now, we’re running out of time. But you go in there and fight for your daughter, and I have no doubt that you’ll do well in there,” he said, and Marin knew that his last statement was genuine.

The buzzer went off, and she stood up and curtseyed. “Thank you, Caesar,” she said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Marin Callahan, District Four! It’s been a pleasure.”

Marin blew a kiss to the audience, who cheered, before walking back to her seat. She high-fived Solomon as he made his way across stage, and sat down with a smile on her face. She was glad she hadn’t been sexy as her mentors had wanted her to, though it had been more Meredith’s idea than Mags’.

It wouldn’t have been natural, and Marin didn’t trust her acting abilities enough to make it seem believable. But she thought the audience liked her – they had seemed to. Hopefully it would bring in sponsors, which would hopefully keep Vita off her back in the arena. Emphasis on hopefully.

Solomon went for the charming confidence, as he had told Marin he would. The boy from 5 was mischievous, and the girl sweet. The girl from 7 was a coward, and Marin wondered for a moment if it was an act before remembering how useless she had been at training. The girl from 8 was flirty, the boy from 9 was vicious, and his district partner was sullen, which she pulled off surprisingly well for such a small thing. The boy from 10 was arrogant and overly confident, the girl as crazy as Marin had suspected. The tributes from 11 and 12 didn’t make much impression on her; she was too anxious by that point to pay much attention.

0o0o

After the interviews, the Career mentors stepped aside to let the allies hurriedly go over their strategy for the Bloodbath one last time before tomorrow. They had decided, upon much debate, that Marin, Topaz and Lapis would defend the Cornucopia, while Solomon, Vita and Alaric would attack from the area around the Cornucopia.

Things got very quiet when Topaz and Lapis left, and Marin realised for the first time just how talkative the two of them were compared to everyone else, how much they supported the conversation on their shoulders.

Vita cleared her throat loudly, and Marin turned to look at her. “I didn’t know you had a kid, Four,” she said, looking unusually awkward. She didn’t meet Marin’s eyes. “I get why you didn’t volunteer now.”

Before Marin had the chance to respond, the elevator stopped at Two’s floor, and their scariest allies were gone.

“That was weird,” said Solomon, breaking the silence.

Marin let out a laugh, though she didn’t really think it had been that funny. “Yeah.”

0o0o

“You didn’t do what we discussed,” Meredith said, having taken Marin aside before dinner. Marin wished that Mags had come too, because Mags could be counted on for her cool-headedness, but the old woman had remained at the table.

Marin studied Meredith’s face, but couldn’t tell what was going through her mentor’s head. “No,” she said. “I didn’t.”

“May I ask why?”

“It isn’t me. If I die in there, I don’t want to be remembered for my looks, for my body,” Marin said. “I want to be remembered as Marin. Marin who wants to go home to her daughter.”

“I understand that, Marin. I promise you that I do. But you just –“ Meredith let out a long sigh. “You know what’s going to happen if you win, right?”

“I have a pretty good idea. I know that Nerida, Tallulah, and Doug certainly aren’t having tea parties with the President. And nor are you or Finnick, when you disappear.”

“No. We’re not,” Meredith said, and rubbed her temple. “When someone gets out of the arena, someone the Capitol deems attractive, the people who sponsored them often request favours.”

“Sexual favours?” Marin asked, already sure of the response.

“Yes.”

“Ah,” she said, unsurprised. There had always been rumours, during her time in the Academy, but no-one knew for certain – no-one was willing to ask. And they certainly weren’t told.

Meredith sighed. “As awful as it is, these people are more likely to send gifts to people they would like to… spend time with after the arena.”

“I understand that,” Marin replied. “But I think that no matter what I did up there, people would still – people would still… I mean, I was dressed in skimpy outfits from the very start. Since the parade.”

“Yes. I think you’re right about that,” Meredith said. “The reason I wanted you to have a more sexy angle was because it would be easy for you to play up, and easier for you to stay that way in their eyes. There’s a reason Aeliana hasn’t been putting much make-up on you, for two main reasons – you don’t need it, and so in the arena people won’t see you as any less beautiful.”

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t go along with your little plan,” said Marin, and then thought about it. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry. I apologise, but I’m not sorry, because I did what I thought was best for me.”

“I think you made the right decision,” Meredith said with a smile. “Now, let’s go and join the others for dinner.”

Marin wished she could stop time, because she knew it would be their last dinner as a group. In a couple of weeks, either she, Solomon, or possibly both of them would be on their way back to Four – cold, silent, and lying still in a wooden box.

0o0o

“So,” Finnick said, clapping his hands. “Let’s go over the plan again. What’s the first thing you do at the Bloodbath?”

They were gathered in the sitting room with seven of Four’s ten Victors – Mags, Finnick, Meredith, Nerida, Tallulah, Clifford, and Douglas. Mags, Finnick, Clifford and Meredith were the main mentors, as the others all had ‘clients’ to see most of the time. But for the very important events – training, interviews, and the night before the Games, they all crowded around to give their advice.

“Find each other as quickly as possible,” said Marin.

Solomon nodded. “Then find a weapon.”

“And then one of our allies,” added Marin.

“And what next?” Meredith asked. “Who’s defending the Cornucopia, who’s going out on the field? Are you both?”

“No,” Marin said.

“Then who’s doing what?”

“I’m going out on the field with the Twos,” Solomon replied.

“And I’m defending the Cornucopia with the Ones.”

“Why are you doing it that way?” Douglas asked them. Douglas had won in the forties, Marin knew, but she couldn’t remember which year. Nerida, Tallulah and Meredith had all won in the fifties – it was a good decade for their district, if you forgot about the Quarter Quell, where they had lost four promising volunteers to Haymitch Abernathy, of all people.

Marin cleared her throat, and everyone looked at her. “Sol is stronger and more able to fight off larger opponents. He favours a spear, but is also skilled with swords, which is why he should be out on the field.”

“Marin is quicker and has distance to her advantage as she is skilled in throwing knives. She would fight better if she didn’t have to worry about being attacked from every angle.”

“Good. And who are your targets?” asked Douglas.

They had gone over this a million times at lunch, after watching everyone carefully. They had decided that the kids from Ten had to go – they were both tall and athletic looking, and looked extremely well-fed for an outlying district. “Both from Ten.”

Solomon nodded. “And the boy from Nine. The girl, too, if we can get her, but especially the boy.”

Douglas nodded. “Good. Why are they your opponents?”

“They got high scores,” Marin said. “We don’t know what the girl from Ten’s weapon is, and we don’t want her to have the element of surprise in her arsenal as well as the mystery weapon.”

“And what do you do, if one of you is injured or goes down?” asked Mags. Marin didn’t want to think about that, she _really_ didn’t – she had no idea how she would cope with Solomon’s death. She knew she would have to, at some point, because he had to die if she was to get home to Minnow and Del. But he was her best friend – she really wished that he hadn’t volunteered.

“We don’t help each other, as much as we might want to,” Solomon said, looking down at his clasped hands. “That would be putting ourselves and the rest of our allies at risk.”

“Why?” she asked, tilting her head, pretending as though she didn’t really know the answer.

“A distraction, however small, could lead to death.”

“And what do you do, if _you’re_ injured or dying?” asked Tallulah. Marin didn’t want to think about that, either, because it would mean that Minnow would grow up without a mother.

“Try to get out of harm’s way. Assess the injury. Use adrenaline to our advantage,” Solomon said, listing instructions that had been drilled into them since they were ten years old.

Tallulah nodded. “And if that doesn’t work?”

“Pray,” said Solomon.

“Fight through it,” said Marin.

“Or you could play dead,” said Meredith. They nodded – it had worked for people before.

“Now, what’s the one thing you need to remember, above everything else?” Meredith asked them, her face as still as stone.

“There are no friends in the arena,” said Marin, though she didn’t really believe it. Solomon was her friend, and she knew he always would be.

“Who can you trust?” Finnick asked, equally serious.

“Each other,” Marin replied, not even having to think; she trusted Solomon, of course she did – she had known him for almost half her life, after all. And she was certain that he trusted her, too.

Which was why she was surprised by Finnick’s reply. “Incorrect.”

“What?” she said, dumfounded, and was pleased to note that Solomon looked the same way.

“The answer is nobody,” Finnick said. “Not even each other. Who can you trust?”

“Nobody,” said Solomon.

“Nobody,” Marin whispered, once again feeling sick.

“Good,” Finnick nodded, his handsome face serious. Marin liked Finnick – his mother and brother had been killed in the same storm that had taken her parents. There had been a vigil for those lost in the storm, and Marin had met him there. He rarely came to training, but he was often down at the beach with Mags or Annie.

“Why are you fighting?” Nerida asked, twirling a lock of black hair around her finger. Marin had never had much to do with Nerida – she had rarely been at Four’s penthouse since they arrived at the Capitol. Despite this, she liked her – she was ‘chill’ as Solomon would say.

“To get home to our loved ones,” Sol answered.

“What are the other tributes?” asked Nerida.

 _People,_ Marin thought. “Obstacles,” she said instead, looking at the floor.

Clifford spoke up; he was one of Four’s oldest Victors, after Mags. He had won in the Twenties, and was very quiet, but he often oversaw their training, so he wasn’t a total stranger. “Should you feel guilty, after getting rid of those obstacles?”

“No,” Solomon said.

“No,” Marin said, though she felt sick. _I have to kill people tomorrow – I have to kill people tomorrow._ She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the thought. The most she’d ever killed were fish, but you couldn’t compare a human being to a fish.

“How should you feel?” asked Mags. She reached over and patted Marin on the shoulder, noticing her discomfort.

Marin smiled at the old woman. “Relieved.”

“Why?” Mags asked, looking at her.

“Because we’ll be closer to getting home. Safer.”

Clifford nodded. “Good girl. Why else shouldn’t you feel guilty?”

“We have no choice,” she said quietly.

“Whoever gets out of the arena is the person that deserves to,” Solomon said, sitting up taller.

“Good,” said Finnick with a nod. Marin wondered if he believed Solomon’s statement, that the Victor was the one most deserving – she didn’t believe it. After all, just because they were fortunate enough to have trained and have been relatively over-fed, didn’t mean that those who weren’t didn’t deserve the crown. What about the little girl from Five? Did she not deserve to live? “Now, tell me again, both of you – what’s the first thing you do when that gong sounds?”

“Find each other,” they said at the same time.

“And then what do you do?” Finnick asked.

“Find a weapon,” said Marin.

“Even if it’s not your preferred weapon,” Mags reminded them, and they nodded.

“And then?” asked Meredith.

“Find our allies,” said Solomon.

“Go to our positions,” said Marin. _To the Cornucopia, to the Cornucopia._

Meredith nodded. “And _then_?”

“Get rid of the obstacles,” Solomon said, dropping his gaze to the floor, just as Marin had done. She wondered again why he had volunteered, and if he regretted it.

“Good,” said Finnick, looking pleased.

Mags took both their hands, looking from Marin to Solomon, her blue eyes wide. “How do you feel?”

“Sick,” said Marin honestly. “Scared. Determined to get home to Minnow.”

“And you, Solomon?” asked Mags.

“Scared, but ready. Prepared,” he said, and Marin didn’t doubt it.

“Should you feel scared?” asked Nerida, and they both nodded. “Why?”

Solomon picked at his nails. “Because it means we’re afraid to die.”

“And is it okay to feel scared?” They both nodded again. “Why?”

“It’s normal. Normal is good,” said Marin. She would give anything, she would sell her soul if it meant she could be back home, as normal, with Minnow and Del.

“How should you react, if you’re scared?” asked Meredith.

Marin knew there was only one answer. “Carry on as if we’re not.”

0o0o

The mentors had all said their goodnights and their goodbyes, given them last hugs, last kisses on the cheeks, last squeezes of hands. Mags had put a sleeping pill on each of their pillows, but Marin and Solomon didn’t want to go to sleep yet.

They were sitting at the dining room table, mugs of warm milk clasped in hands, a plate of untouched biscuits in between them.

Marin’s leg was jiggling, up and down, up and down, and she felt as though she was drowning. She had almost drowned once, as a child – she had dived off the boat to retrieve the fish she’d thrown a knife at, and had become entangled in the net. She would have died if her mother hadn’t counted – when she was seven, Marin could only hold her breath for a minute and a half, and her mother new that.

She had dived into the crystalline water, Del told her, without even taking off her pants. And a moment later, she had resurfaced, a spluttering, sobbing Marin in her arms. They never had gotten the knife back, nor the fish, and Marin wondered which beach her beloved knife had washed up on.

The feeling of drowning was not one she thought she would ever have to relive, but here she was, in a Capitol penthouse, unable to breathe and feeling the weight of the water above her head.

“Remember, Sol, we have to find each other as quickly as possible,” she said, though of course he remembered. “Please, please find me.”

“I’ll find you, Marin. I promise. Hey,” he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Marin took a shaky breath. “I know. It’s just-“

“What?”

“This is our last night as normal people. This time tomorrow, we’ll be – we’ll be murderers,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Who would she kill first, she wondered? Would it be that sweet little girl from Five, Eulalie? The shivering, stuttering boy from Six? The terrified cry-baby from Seven? She would rather not know. She wished that none of them had faces, or even names, because she didn’t know if she could do it – kill someone while they watched her.

Solomon didn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

“Why did you volunteer, Sol?”

“I just – it’s what we’re meant to do, right? You go to training, you learn how to kill, you volunteer and put your skills to the test.”

“What about Dylan?”

Solomon narrowed his eyes. “Dylan didn’t want me to, and I did have second thoughts, a moment after. But I made my decision. And I have to live with that.” Or die with it, was what he didn’t say, but Marin knew that was what he was thinking.

Marin sighed. “I understand. I think.”

She swirled the milk in the mug around, around, around, watching it lap up the sides, spill onto the table. It reminded her of being out on her parents’ boat, before they had died, leaning over the side and watching the waves lap the sides of the vessel.

“What are you going to do, when you get home?” asked Solomon, after a while.

“What?” Marin asked him, confused.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” he said, his brown eyes sad but smiling. There he was – there was her friend, the Solomon she knew. “I’m going to buy a boat. A proper one, not a little fishing boat, but a real boat, with an engine and a water purifier and enough supplies to last me years. And then I’m going to take Dylan and we’re going to sail all the way up the coast until we get to the border.”

“Sounds nice,” she whispered.

“Now tell me what you’re going to do.”

Marin smiled at her friend, tears blooming in her eyes. “I’m going to teach Minnow how to dive. Off the pier. When she’s old enough, I’ll take her snorkelling, and show her how beautiful it is underwater. And I’m going to watch her grow.”

They fell silent, looking at each other but saying nothing. They clasped hands across the table, and as Marin wept, for her daughter, for her sister, for Solomon, for herself – she could have sworn that Solomon was crying, too.


	9. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna escapes the Bloodbath, and makes a trade with an unexpected stalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Run Rabbit Run by Flanagan and Allen

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse: Johanna Mason**

Johanna woke up early and in a cold sweat. _Well, I guess the sleeping pill has worn off._

The clock said it was 5 in the morning, and Johanna stretched and ordered a green smoothie, cringing at the taste but drinking the whole thing anyway. She would need to be as full as possible, but didn’t want to get a stitch when she ran from the Bloodbath, so she thought it best to give herself some time to digest.

She went over to the door, thinking it would be nice to have one last chat with Magnolia, but the door wouldn’t open. Rattling the knob, Johanna frowned – it had been locked from the outside. She realised that maybe this was a precautionary measure – maybe tributes had tried to run away in the past.

She still had an hour or so to kill before her prep team and stylist would arrive, so Johanna did some yoga and star jumps to wake her muscles up. She ordered some steak, but only so she could practice throwing the knife – she doubted a steak knife would be found in the arena, but the knives Magnolia had smuggled in for her to practice with were gone, presumably taken away by an Avox.

Johanna was so caught up in her throwing that she almost didn’t hear the murmuring from the other side of the door, or the rattle of keys. She yanked the knife out of where it had landed in the wall and hid it under her pillow, standing awkwardly by the bed when Nona pushed the door open.

“Good morning,” Nona said, as she bustled into the room, a wide grin on her stupid face. “What an exciting day it is.”

Johanna saw red – how _dare_ she – but took calming breaths. _Not yet – not yet,_ she thought. It was still too early to break character, although she supposed it wouldn’t matter too much by now – even if her stylist told her little Capitol friends, the information wouldn’t have enough time to reach the other tributes. But still, Johanna kept her face level, not leaking any of the anger that was eating her up inside.

0o0o

“Ow!” Johanna hissed, staring accusingly at the woman who put the tracker in her arm. The woman looked at her, obviously confused as to why Johanna wasn’t sobbing her heart out on the floor; she must have seen the interviews.

“Sorry,” said the woman, eyebrows furrowed. “Now, this tracker will not only help us keep tabs on you, but it will also regulate your hormone levels. That means you won’t menstruate in the arena.”

“Thank the dryads for that,” Johanna muttered. Having her period in the arena sounded like a special sort of hell – it would probably make being a tribute fifteen times more horrible.

In the Stockyards, Johanna ate as much as she could, not really tasting her food. Potatoes, mushrooms, thinly-sliced beef – down the hatch it went, and Johanna had to order a cup of ginger tea so she didn’t vomit the whole thing up over Nona’s expensive high heels. Although, if there was such a thing as the right person to throw up on, it would be Nona – it might shut her up for more than five minutes.

The outfit for the arena was simple – tight-fitting black pants, a loose, fleecy, long-sleeved grey shirt, and a thin jacket. The underclothes were thick and warm – the arena must be cold. Johanna hoped it wouldn’t be a frozen tundra, which had been the arena for the 69th Games – half of the tributes had died on the first night, and the other half were torn apart by mutts that the Gamemakers released to keep the Capitol audience interested.

The shoes were sturdy and made of leather, with tough laces and a thick heel. The bottoms of the boots weren’t flat, but had grooves; Johanna suspected for grip, so there would probably be a lot of climbing – the arena was possibly hilly, or maybe mountainous.

The jacket, however, suggested a warmer, more tropical environment, which would explain the mangoes at the edible plants station. It was thin and didn’t seem to offer much in terms of warmth, but more for protection from the sun. The material seemed reflective, almost, probably to keep out some of the heat. There was also a hood, and Johanna brought it up over her head.

There was also a pair of fingerless leather gloves, and a woollen hat. The outfit was almost as enigmatic as the plants in training had been; _what the fuck is this arena?_ Johanna wondered. A lump grew in her throat, and she swallowed it down. No more cry-baby. No more tears.

“Well, girl, looks like this is goodbye forever,” said Nona snidely. The voice had announced that it was launch time, and if the pit in her stomach was anything to go by, it felt as though Johanna had gorged herself on rocks rather than food. Eurydice’s face, and Bear’s, and Rowan’s, and Mom’s, and Da’s – they all flashed through her mind, and Johanna wondered if this was it, if she would ever see them in person again. She twisted her green beaded bracelet around her wrist, rolling the beads between her fingers, thinking of home, of the forests, of the ones she loved.

Nona offered her hand to help Johanna climb into the tube, but she declined it, climbing into the tube herself. Johanna turned to her stylist, who seemed to be truly happy at the fact Johanna was heading to her possible death.

“Thank you for everything, Madam Glib, you are truly an amazing person and stylist, and I hope you have a long, happy life.” Nona was too narcissistic to notice that Johanna’s words were dripping with sarcasm. _I hope you die painfully and alone,_ she thought, flashing a sweet smile at her stylist.

Nona grinned back, her teeth unnaturally white, basking in what she believed had been a compliment. “I hope your death isn’t incredibly painful.”

That was it. The last straw. The glass doors of the tube were no doubt about to close, but Johanna smiled. “Hey, Madam Glib, I have one last thing to say to you.”

“Yes?” Nona said, beaming, evidently expecting more praise, more compliments.

“Fuck you,” Johanna said with delight, and the doors closed shut. The last thing Johanna saw of the Capitol was Nona’s puce-coloured, spluttering face, her fists shaking, mouth no doubt spewing obscenities – and then Johanna couldn’t see her any more, and it dawned on her that in three minutes time, she would probably be running for her life. All the laughter in her throat disappeared, and the lump returned.

 _Well,_ she thought, clenching her fists so tightly that her fingernails left half-moons on her palms. _Fuck._

0o0o

The arena was as strange as the clues had been. Johanna was in between the girl from Four, the one who had a kid – Marin – and the sneaky-looking boy from Eleven, whose name eluded her. The mouth of the Cornucopia was facing away from her, which was good as it would remove her from most of the action. Behind it was a huge mountain range, the snow-topped caps disappearing into the clouds. To her far right was a dark forest, with pine trees so impossibly tall that Johanna knew they had been enhanced by the Gamemakers. They were well over 300 feet, far taller than any of the trees in the forests back home.

To her left was where things got interesting. A huge black lake, which was in a type of valley between two mountains, and a tropical-looking grove, which Johanna had no doubt was full of poison and probably giant scorpions. It explained the mangoes, and looked bizarre, smack-bang in the middle of an otherwise cold environment.

Johanna looked around her for supplies, and spotted a bag that was roughly ten metres in front of her. It was a good size, uncommon for a bag so far away from the Cornucopia, and an unusual colour, too – midnight blue.

Midnight blue.

Dark blue.

Johanna turned her feet to the bag, knees bent to jump off the pedestal. She had no idea why it was there, but she knew that it was for her. Perhaps Magnolia had cashed in one of her favours, tipped the scale a little further in Johanna’s direction.

 _Thirteen._ Don’t fall, Johanna, she told herself sternly. Or you’ll be blown to smithereens.

 _Twelve._ Don’t think of Eurydice, Johanna.

 _Eleven._ Don’t think of Bear, Johanna.

 _Ten._ Don’t think of Rowan, Johanna.

 _Nine._ Don’t think of Mom, Johanna.

 _Eight._ Don’t think of Da, Johanna.

 _Seven._ Don’t think of Elm, Johanna.

 _Six._ Don’t think of death, Johanna.

 _Five._ Don’t think of sweet little Eulalie, Johanna.

 _Four._ Don’t think of Marin, Johanna, she’s not going to get home to her daughter.

 _Three._ Run.

 _Two._ Jojo.

 _One._ Run.

The gong sounded, and Johanna leapt from the pedestal, dashing towards the dark blue bag and quickly snatching it up. Shrugging it onto her back, she ran back the way she came, zig-zagging; she had to get to the woods. There was no question about it.

The ground was rocky, uneven, and Johanna tripped. She sprawled out onto the ground, but scrambled to her feet, taking off towards the forest, running around the pedestals to her right. There was a piercing scream from behind her, and she shuddered. A moment later, whoever had been screaming that horrible scream went silent, shockingly fast.

Still zig-zagging, she shrieked when an arrow hit a tree near her head, and dived into the forest, only barely making it. Another arrow whizzed past her head, and she huddled into the bushes with baited breath, not daring to move a muscle. She stayed there for a minute, before rising; whoever had shot at her – she bet it was the girl from Two – had obviously decided not to come after her, and Johanna was glad – she didn’t want to break her act this early into the Games.

Johanna turned around, unable to resist now that she had the cover of the trees on her side, and looked up right in time to see little Eulalie from Five topple over, an arrow sticking out of her back. She whimpered once, dark blood blooming around the hole in her jacket, before becoming still. She had been so close to the woods – ten more seconds and she would have made it. The tiny girl had a small wooden crate in her arms, and Johanna darted towards her, dragging her body into the woods. Eulalie had died for whatever it was she was holding, and Johanna didn’t want to let her death be for nothing. And who knew, it could possibly be of use to Johanna. Eulalie’s death grip on the crate was firm, and she didn’t let go of it, which Johanna was thankful for.

When they were back under the cover of the trees, Johanna quickly stripped Eulalie of her jacket and the heavy satchel the girl had slung over her shoulder. Grabbing the crate firmly under her arm, Johanna leaned over and closed Eulalie’s big, brown eyes, and tried not to think of how Bear’s eyes were the exact same shade. Johanna quickly dug through the satchel, hoping for a weapon, and found a single dagger. She opened the lid of the crate, curious, and inside was some sort of device, wires sticking out of it.

She heard someone crashing through the woods behind her, heard more yells from the Cornucopia, and took off, glad that her years of being a lumberjack had taught her how to run silently through the forest. She closed the small crate and tucked it under her arm, tossed Eulalie’s jacket over her shoulder, not having time to put it on, and ran for dear life, the dagger held firmly in her right hand.

Johanna ran further and further into the woods, stopping every now and then to look around her and make sure she wasn’t being followed. It was getting darker and darker, and Johanna wasn’t sure whether it was from the huge shadows cast by the trees or if the day was already almost over. She was glad Maizy hadn’t followed her – she knew now that her interview had been successful.

She stopped for breath when she heard the cannons – there were nine of them in total. Only fifteen left to die.

Johanna slowed down now – she was a good distance from the Cornucopia. She also thought that she would probably collapse if she did any more running.

Her hands were shaking, and Johanna had just settled on a tree to climb when there was the snap of a twig from behind her. She let out a gasp, and whirled around, arm raised, the dagger ready to fly.

“Woah there, Seven, it’s just little old me.”

The boy from Five stepped forward, and Johanna held up the hand holding the dagger. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll throw it,” she said.

“Easy,” he said. Johanna recognized him, and though she remembered his district, she couldn’t for the life of her remember his name. “What’ve you got in that crate there?” asked Five, gesturing to the box held tightly under Johanna’s arm.

“Don’t know,” she admitted, her eyes not leaving his. She knew that he wanted it – she knew it was valuable. “I haven’t had a good look. Some sort of water purifier.” Whatever it was, it wasn’t a water purifier. She didn’t know how he had found her, how she hadn’t heard him sooner – evidently. She wasn’t the only one who knew how to walk silently.

“Is it now?” Five said. Johanna didn’t like the look on his face. “Well, Lalie died for that water purifier.”

Johanna knew that meant it must be worth something, knew it must be useful. “Finders keepers,” she snapped, not wanting to think of Eulalie and her big, brown, glassy eyes. She had broken her act, but she couldn’t risk acting meek; despite his small stature, the boy from Five had proven himself to be skilled, and with his arms full of weapons, Johanna didn’t think it was very wise to seem like an easy kill. Because she knew that if Five thought she was an easy kill, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get rid of one more opponent.

“Indeed,” he said, and Johanna hated his tone of voice. “But I am proposing a trade.”

“Oh, are you now?” she said, her voice high-pitched and mocking.

“Yes,” said the curly-haired boy, and took out one of the weapons under his arm, holding it up for Johanna to see. “A hatchet.”

“Why would you trade one of those for a little water purifier?”

“Don’t be silly, Seven,” Five said with a smirk. “You and I both know that it isn’t a water purifier.”

Johanna narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you give me a hatchet?”

“Well, there’s a few reasons. I don’t have much use for it, and I’ll bet my nice new leather gloves that you do,” he said, flexing his hand. “And I can tell you for free that you don’t have much use for that ‘water purifier’. But I do.”

Johanna didn’t say anything, and just glared at him, the dagger still raised. If she let it fly, it would make a neat trajectory right into his heart. His eyes flickered between Johanna and the blade, and he raised his free arm, palm facing her. “Okay. I’m going to slowly put the hatchet over by that rock there. If you want it, leave the box in its place. If you don’t want it, well you’re free to go; I won’t go after you. If I have read you correctly, and I’m certain that I have, it would not be wise of me to pursue you.”

Johanna didn’t say anything for a while as she considered his offer. She didn’t like it – whatever was in the crate was obviously something very useful, something that could harm her. But what choice did she have? Magnolia’s backpack was to light to have a hatchet in it. She definitely wouldn’t be sent one by sponsors. And she sure as fuck wasn’t going to sneak back to the Cornucopia.

It was a fishy deal, she knew that, and she didn’t like it – the ‘water purifier’ could possibly threaten her chances of getting home. But she also needed to get her hands on that hatchet – if she didn’t, she knew her chances of Victory were lower. She doubted she could win with just a little dagger. She also didn’t want to think about that last sentence of his – what did he mean, if he had read her correctly? She had been worried about Maizy figuring out her strategy, but maybe Five was the one she should have been worrying about – maybe Five had figured her out first, and spread his concern to the rest of his toxic little alliance.

“How do you know I won’t take the hatchet _and_ the box?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, I trust you,” said Five, and let out a short laugh when he saw the unimpressed look on her face. “You’re right, I don’t trust you. But I’ll be sitting right over there, and you’re not the only one who knows how to throw a knife.”

“Understood,” said Johanna. “Okay. Leave it. And if you try anything, buddy, I’m going to introduce my lovely dagger to your big head.”

Five laughed. “I wouldn’t have expected any less.” He slowly walked towards the rock, and set the hatchet down carefully. Backing behind a bush, he grinned at her, teeth gleaming like a wolf’s. “Your turn, Seven.”

Johanna walked over to the rock, not taking her eyes off him. She picked up the hatchet, testing its weight in her hands, and unceremoniously dumped the crate in its place. The boy from Five winced, and Johanna grinned – whatever was in that crate certainly wasn’t a water purifier. Now she knew for sure.

“Hey,” she said, glancing at the crate. “Maybe the Careers would like some of that purified water.”

The boy from Five grinned as he made his way over to the crate. “Oh, I bet they would. It was very nice doing business with you, Miss…”

“Mason,” Johanna replied. “Johanna Mason.”

He bobbed his head, putting the crate under his free arm. Johanna eyed his weapons – a sword, a handful of knives, and what looked like an awl. She had no idea how he was carrying them, but she wasn’t about to ask. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Johanna Mason,” he said. The name’s Nicks – Cassian Nicks.”

“Well,” said Johanna, tightening her grip on the hatchet. “I hope I see your face in the sky.”

“Likewise,” said Cassian with a grin.

And with that, they exchanged two final nods, and went off in opposite directions, holding their weapons close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bond. James Bond.
> 
> Kinda short, I know. But the next two chapters will also be dedicated to the Bloodbath – Marin and Maizy! I’m really looking forward to writing from Marin’s POV again, she’s really fun to write. And Maizy should be interesting too, I have a lot of ideas for her.
> 
> Do you have any guesses as to what’s in the crate? (hint – it’s not a water purifier)
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked this chapter!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	10. Maizy: The Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Outer-District One-Time Alliance makes the Bloodbath their bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OFFICIAL TRIGGER WARNING: IMPLIED RAPE (you can skip this chapter if you don’t want to read that. There’s not much detail at all about it but if it makes you uncomfortable, this chapter isn’t totally crucial to Johanna’s story. If you want a summary feel free to contact me on Tumblr)
> 
> Song: Too Old to Die Young by Brother Dege

**Arena, Cornucopia, Day 1: Maizy Hillary**

Five seconds after the gong went off, Maizy was already halfway to the Cornucopia. She had always been the fastest of her siblings, the fastest of her friends, the fastest of her classmates… and apparently she was the fastest of the tributes, too. Her pedestal had also been facing the Cornucopia, which bought her a few more precious seconds.

She burst into the Cornucopia, walking straight past the stacks of weapons littered around the entrance. She shrugged a large backpack on, and started filling a leather satchel with darts, tucking a blow-gun into the left inside pocket of her jacket. The right inside pocket held her token, a little rag doll she’d had since she was a baby.

She found a box of assorted poisons on the same shelf as the darts, and slipped them into her satchel – she could treat the darts with the poison.

Natania arrived at the Cornucopia not long after, and immediately dove for the weapons, grabbing a long, deadly-looking cutlass and a wicked-looking dagger, flashing Maizy a wild grin before making her way to the mouth of the Cornucopia. She leaned casually against the side as if it were a normal day, as if the tributes were old friends she was waiting to catch up with. Maizy slung another backpack on her shoulders – the Careers would arrive soon.

“Good morning, Maizy,” said Cassian, panting, making his way inside and grabbing a backpack as she had.

“Hi, Cassian,” she said, flashing him a small smile.

Eulalie was right behind him, and Cassian handed her a small wooden crate from a shelf marked ‘Electronics’. She grabbed a small leather satchel without looking at the contents, tossed it over her shoulder, and gave them both a small, scared smile. “You know what to do, Lalie. We’ll meet you in the woods,” said Cassian, and Eulalie nodded, kissing Cassian once on the cheek before darting off like a little rabbit.

There was a yell and the clanging of blades from outside, which told them that the Careers had arrived; Maizy saw no sign of Scythe, but there was no time to wonder where he was.

She and Cassian frantically threw things into backpacks, knocking over crates and cartons and generally causing as much damage to the remainder of supplies in the Cornucopia as they possibly could. There was a small scream from outside; Natania’s. It was followed by a horrible gurgle, and Maizy looked up, expecting the worst. She was relieved when the girl from Eleven fell to the ground – they couldn’t lose Natania, otherwise they’d have no chance of getting away from the Bloodbath. The cutlass in Natania’s hands dripped a trail of blood.

“Hurry up!” Scythe yelled to them, and Maizy heard him yelp with pain. There was another shriek, and Maizy guessed it was from one of the Career girls, because it was far higher in pitch that Natania’s. “There’s two of them now!”

“Topaz! Topaz, help!” the Career girl screamed, and Maizy’s heart jumped to her throat; more of the Careers would arrive soon.

She and Cassian looked at each other, Cassian’s eyes as wide as saucers. “Maizy, we gotta go!” He was similarly stocked up, two backpacks on his back, his arms full of assorted weapons and supplies. Maizy kicked over one more crate, and fresh fruit toppled into the dirt and the stones.

Scythe and the boy from One burst into the Cornucopia, weapons clashing, and Maizy and Cassian both yelled in fright. “Go, go, go!” Maizy screeched, and she and Cassian fled for their lives. The boy from One’s neck erupted in an explosion of scarlet. The girls from One and Four had been fighting Natania, but the girl from One – Topaz - started to scream when she saw her district partner fall to the ground, dead. She dropped to the floor, shaking his shoulders in a pointless attempt to wake im up. The girl from Four was forced to stop fighting, due to Topaz’s stupidity, and slapped her ally across the face in a desperate attempt to end the mental breakdown. “Topaz, Topaz, stop!”

Scythe raised his scythe above his head, ready to bring it down onto the girl from Four, who saw his raised weapon and jumped to her feet with a shriek – but Scythe stopped in his tracks when a spear hit the dirt next to his feet, courtesy of the boy from Four.

“Scythe, move your ass!” Maizy screamed. Natania grabbed Scythe’s arm, pulling him away from the Careers, and the four of them ran, not daring to look behind them.

0o0o

They had made it into the woods, only to spot Eulalie lying face-down in the dirt, an arrow sticking out of her back.

“No! Eulalie!” Cassian cried, and shook her. There was the snap of a twig up further, and Maizy stood up in time to see that bitch from Seven - Johanna - fleeing, her long hair trailing behind her, the wooden crate Eulalie had died for tucked under her arm.

 _I fucking knew she was up to something, I fucking knew it,_ Maizy thought, angry with herself. She had had a gut feeling about Seven from the start, but she’d ignored it after the interviews. And she should have known better than to ignore her intuition, because there was no way that the Johanna she knew would have survived the Bloodbath.

Natania reached over and yanked the arrow out of Eulalie’s back, snapping it in half and tossing it behind her. They all looked at her accusingly, and she shrugged. “What? Two can’t use it if it’s in pieces.”

Maizy grabbed Cassian’s arm, not daring to look the grieving boy in the face. “Come _on_ , Cassian, we have to move, they’ll be right behind us. There’s no time to cry.” As cruel as she felt, it had to be said; Cassian clenched his jaw and stood up, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. Maizy patted his back, and dragged him along. She hated that she liked him so much – she wished that she could make herself hate him. But she couldn’t. And that would definitely be a problem.

The four of them made their way further into the woods and stopped for a moment to make sure nobody was following them; when they were sure, they pooled all the supplies in between them.

Scythe had a long gash on his arm, his jacket torn. Maizy reached for his arm to help him, but he shrugged her away with a scowl. “Does everyone have weapons?” he asked. Maizy nodded, and Cassian smiled, dumping his armful of weapons into the pile of supplies.

They each came away from the pile with a large backpack each, as well as a well-stocked first-aid kit and medium boxes of food which would be hard to carry but helpful enough that they would take the risk. There was a sleeping bag in the bottom of the backpack, and Maizy was glad – she had never been good with the cold, and something told her that temperatures would only plummet from here, because the Gamemakers were assholes.

“Well,” said Natania, breaking the silence. “Guess this is goodbye.”

“What are you guys going to do?” Scythe asked, as he organised his backpack. Maizy scowled at him; he was so nosy, always had been.

Natania grinned, and Maizy felt herself recoiling from her ally – she didn’t like Natania, not one little bit. But then again, she didn’t like most people – that was another reason why she was so angry about her little crush on Cassian.

“I’m going to go find Angus,” Natania began. “And I’m going to kill him. I’m going to chop off his fingers, one by one as he watches. And then I’m going to make him eat them, nom nom nom.”

The three sane ones looked at their ally, horrified, and Natania started to laugh, a horrible, mad laugh. “Don’t look at me like that! He deserves it! In fact, he deserves more!”

“What did he do?” Maizy asked; there was no way this boy hadn’t wronged Natania on a personal level somewhere along the line.

The laughter disappeared from Natania’s face, replaced instead with anger. In the half-light of the clearing, she looked like some sort of witch – her messy hair, her blood-stained hands, her wild dark eyes. Maizy took a step back.

“Back in Ten, a lot of crimes go unpunished. Especially if you’re the son of the wealthiest rancher in the district,” Natania drawled, her Ten accent even more prominent. _She’s enjoying this,_ Maizy thought. _She’s happy she’s here._ “And dear little Angus was never punished, not by the poor little girls he beat up and had his way with, not by the boy he ‘accidentally’ killed, and not by the Peacekeepers, after Daddy Darling paid them off. But last month, he went too far. Last month, he hurt my sister.”

They were silent, all of them staring at Natania, Natania staring back. It certainly explained Natania’s bloodlust, her violence, and the anger that was present in everything she did – Maizy wondered how she’d known to volunteer. Was it possible that someone of power in their district hated Angus as much as Natania did? Was it possible that the reaping had been rigged, was it possible that Natania knew?

Maizy didn’t know. She could only guess, but now she did know why Natania was slightly crazy. “Make sure you chop off his toes, too,” she said finally, and Natania let out another crazed laugh.

“I certainly will, among other… organs.”

“Okay. Have fun, Natania,” Scythe said, looking slightly impatient, and very uncomfortable. “I’m going to go now. Thanks for the alliance, thanks for the friendship, thanks for the love and connection we shared,” he said sarcastically. “Yada, yada, yada. I’m going to go now. Later.”

He turned and walked off without another word, heading back the way they came; _idiot,_ Maizy thought. _He’s going to get himself killed._

Natania cupped her hands around her mouth. “Bye, Scythe!” she yelled, her voice bouncing around the trees. Scythe turned around and made a rude hand gesture, and Maizy slapped her on the arm.

“What the fuck, Natania?” she hissed. “Are you just trying to announce to the Careers that we’re here?”

“Oh, not at all, sweetie-pie,” said Natania, blinking her eyes innocently, clasping her hands together under her chin.

“Then why the hell would you be so stupid?” Maizy demanded. Natania had probably just given away their location – the Careers could be on their way right now, crashing through the trees and the bushes, their weapons raised and dripping with the blood of the less than fortunate.

“Because, sweetie-pie, I’m clinically insane,” Natania said, and turned on her heel without so much as a goodbye. Maizy was glad to see her go.

It occurred to her that she and Cassian were the only ones left, and she turned to him, butterflies dancing a jig in her stomach. “She’s fucked in the head,” she muttered to Cassian, who hummed his agreement. She had been hoping for a laugh, but a hum was better than nothing, she supposed. “Oh, by the way – I saw Seven, running from Eulalie. She had the box.”

Cassian gasped and grabbed her by the arm, his fingers digging sharply into her flesh, no doubt leaving bruises. “Where did she go? Maizy, please, which direction?”

She shrugged his arm off hers, and pointed in the direction Johanna had gone. “That way. You weirdo.”

“Okay, thanks Maizy, bye!” Cassian said, and took off, his arms full of supplies. Something fell from his hands, but he didn’t turn back for it. “You can have that!” he shouted over his shoulder.

She watched him go, and then went over and picked up what he had dropped – it was a large packet of beef jerky. Barbeque flavoured, of all things. “Cool,” she said quietly, staring at the spot he had stood, and put it in her satchel.

She was stupid, so, so fucking stupid. She had never had a crush on a boy back home, where it could have led to something. No, her first crush had to be in the arena, her first crush had to die.

And Maizy hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, another short one. But up next is Marin! Yay!
> 
> What did you think of the outlier alliance? It was a lot of fun to write, I like Maizy. I also wanted to give Natania a bit more backstory – by the way, why do you think she volunteered? I mean, you’ll find out eventually.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	11. Marin: The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Careers do what they have to do, but lose one of their own in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Maskenfreiheit by Belako (honestly this song just screams Bloodbath. The music video also fits perfectly and it’s kinda my favourite song at the moment)

**Arena, Stockyards: Marin Callahan**

Marin let the icy water run over her, the cold waking up her muscles and making her buzz. Whether this was from anxiety or the cold, Marin didn’t know, but she suspected it was a mixture of the two. Goosebumps grew on her arms and she shivered, but stayed under the steady stream of water.

There were only two possible outcomes of the day. The first one was Marin dying a horrible, grisly death, lying in a pool of blood, grower colder with every second that passed until the cold claw of the hovercraft picked her up like she was a ragdoll. The second was Marin taking part in the Bloodbath and being forced to live with whatever she had to do – being forced to live with the blood on her hands that would stay no matter how hard she scrubbed.

“Marin, you should probably get dressed now,” Aeliana said, sticking her head in the bathroom.

“Okay,” Marin tried to call back, but her throat was dry and her voice came out as more of a whisper.

She turned the water off and stepped out of the shower onto the fluffy bath-mat. She wrapped a towel around her, and closed her eyes, pulling the towel tighter, pretending it was the embrace of Del, or her mother, or her father. But of course it wasn’t, and Marin dropped the towel and placed her hand on the current-box, dry in a second.

Aeliana had laid out some underclothes – plain black bra and panties, a fleecy white singlet top, and a pair of thick, grey socks. Marin pulled the clothes on, and stopped to look at herself in the mirror, knowing that this was the last time she would look like herself – the arena changed people, took away their beauty, rendered them feral. Would she come out of the arena scarred? Would she be covered in blood and dirt and despair? Would she come out of the arena at all, or would her ghost be doomed to walk there forever, freedom perpetually out of reach?

Feeling her breakfast rising in her throat, she ran to the toilet and retched, losing the contents of her stomach. Aeliana came into the bathroom and squatted down next to her, rubbing her back and holding her hair back from her face.

“Oh, honey,” she whispered soothingly. She didn’t say anything else, didn’t tell Marin that she would be okay, that everything would be okay. Marin was glad – empty words helped no-one.

Marin spat once more, and stood, flushing the toilet. She walked over to the sink and splashed her face, water running down her neck and soaking the singlet. She didn’t care. The cold was good. The cold kept her present. She brushed her teeth quickly, and Aeliana put an arm around her shoulders and led her out of the bathroom.

The arena outfit was simple, comfortable, and would be easy to move around in. Marin liked the jacket best – it had lots of inside pockets, good for keeping a dagger or two close to her.

“Are you alright, Marin?” Aeliana said, and then winced. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Marin said, and Aeliana smiled, patting Marin’s hair.

“Let’s sort out your hair,” she said. “Do you want anything else to eat, or do you feel too ill?”

“I’d probably just throw up again,” Marin said, attempting a laugh that fell short in the small room.

“Oh, Mags gave me your token, I forgot to give it to you,” Aeliana said, and handed Marin the photograph. Marin couldn’t believe she had been so careless as to forget it, but she was too wrapped up in her thoughts, her anxiety, the drowning feeling.

“Thank you,” Marin whispered, a lump rising in her throat as she looked at the photo of her daughter, her beautiful, laughing daughter. Minnow’s large green eyes stared back at her, the dimples on her rosy cheeks frozen in time. Marin didn’t know where Minnow got the green eyes – Morgan’s were blue, and hers were hazel. Perhaps Minnow’s eyes would change colour with time. The dimples, however, were a family trait, given to Marin by her mother and passed down in turn to Minnow.

A calm voice announced that it was time to launch, and Marin gulped, feeling the floor sway around her. The drowning feeling was back, and Marin gasped for air as she tucked the photograph into her inside pocket, the one over her heart.

She clutched at Aeliana’s shirt – _help me, help me, help me, I’m drowning, drowning, drowning –_ and Aeliana led her over to the tube. “Deep breaths, honey, just breathe.”

Marin breathed, in and out, in and out. “Thank you. For everything,” she said, and Aeliana smiled, hugging her close. Marin hugged her back – Aeliana’s arms were warm and strong, and she could almost imagine that it was her big sister’s embrace. Oh, Marin wished that Del were here to hug her instead, she could always calm Marin down, could always drag her from the depths as she drowned.

“Time to get into the tube, now, Marin,” Aeliana said gently, and Marin nodded, wiping away a single salty tear on the back of her hand.

Aeliana helped her up into the tube, and pressed a kiss to Marin’s cheek before letting go, stepping back and raising her hand in goodbye as the doors closed around her. Marin waved back, but she was drowning again – drowning, drowning, drowning. It felt as if the walls were closing in on her, as if they were going to eat her alive, and Marin pounded them with her fists, screaming to be let out.

And then she was let out – she blinked; the sky so white it made her temporarily blind. She looked around – she was next to the cry-baby from Seven and the boy from Nine. He was one of their targets, she remembered.

Something glinted in the grass – a dagger! _Her_ dagger. But where was Sol? There he was, four tributes to her right – he smiled at her, and she smiled back. The mouth of the Cornucopia was pointed away from her, which wasn’t good – it would take longer to reach.

She wondered where Del and Minnow were – probably in their little house by the sea, watching the TV in the small sitting room. Marin hoped that Del wouldn’t let Minnow watch the Games – she didn’t want Minnow to be exposed to the horrors of their world any sooner than she absolutely had to.

She could see Topaz, and Alaric, but Lapis and Vita were nowhere in sight, probably on the other side of the Cornucopia. Marin hoped that they would get there before any of the other tributes were able to get their little hands on weapons.

_Ten._

_Nine._

_Eight._ Marin took deep, steady breaths.

_Seven._

_Six._

_Five._ Her eyes didn’t leave the dagger, two metres from where she stood.

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._ Solomon. To Solomon.

_One._

The gong went, and Marin jumped off the plate, landing lightly on the ground. She grabbed the dagger, and ran in Solomon’s direction. They collided, and he whirled around with a growl before seeing who it was.

“Sorry,” he said, and then they started to run. There were all sorts of weapons arranged around the Cornucopia and Solomon armed himself with a spear and a sword. He gave her one last look and then took off. Marin grabbed another dagger and then ran around to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

The girl from Ten was just standing there, a grin on her face – Marin didn’t have time to wonder what was wrong with her before the girl spotted her and charged, cutlass raised, a terrifying look on her face.

Marin yelled in fright and leapt out of the way. Ten’s cutlass hit a metal rack of assorted swords, and she growled in frustration. Marin twisted around her, trying to stab, but Ten was good – where had she gotten that good? Marin wondered. She could have been a Career.

She made a slicing motion at Ten’s throat, but she was far smaller than Ten and her aim fell short. Suddenly the girl from Eleven came out of nowhere, holding an awl above her head; she charged at them with a scream, and Marin jumped out of the way. Ten stabbed the girl through the stomach and she fell with a gurgle. Marin took advantage of Ten’s distraction and whirled around behind the girl, ducking behind a crate as she looked around.

Now, Marin thought, and leapt out from behind the crate with her best war-cry. Ten was quick, though, and sliced with her sword – Marin felt warmth on her left fore-arm, but didn’t have time to assess the wound. Ten swung again, and that was when Marin realised she had been backed into a corner. Cursing herself for her stupidity, her distraction, Marin climbed up onto a large wooden crate and jumped, grabbing Ten and using her legs to pin her arms to her sides, trying to take her spare dagger out of her pocket – she had dropped the other one. Ten yelled – whether in fury or pain, Marin didn’t know – and managed to free her arms. She grabbed Marin by the waist, yanking her out of the deadly embrace and dropping her awkwardly to the floor. Before Marin could roll away, Ten pinned her arms to the ground, and Marin tried to use her legs to push Ten off her, but Ten was too strong, and Marin was too small.

She did the only thing she could do – scream. “Topaz!” she shrieked, thrashing under Ten’s arms, spotting her ally a couple of metres away. “Topaz, help!”

“Coming!” Topaz yelled back, rapier in hand, running past Lapis, who was engaged in an intense battle with the boy from Nine, both of them dripping with blood and sweat.

Ten whirled around, her face growing pale, realising she was about to find herself in a whole world of trouble. She quickly jumped off Marin, deciding that Topaz was the more deadly opponent, and Marin scrambled to her feet, taking her dagger out of her pocket and getting ready to stab. Topaz and Ten swung their blades at each other, parrying and attacking and shouting. She heard a shout from inside the Cornucopia, and watched as Lapis managed to corner the boy from Nine, backing him into the golden horn. A moment later two small figures burst from the Cornucopia – Marin recognised Cassian, and the red-headed girl from Nine.

Marin swung at Ten again, who dodged, and tried to land a blow of her own. Marin dodged again, and landed a kick to Ten’s stomach. She staggered backwards and Topaz leapt forwards. Together, they tried to back Ten into the Cornucopia – that way they would be working as a team, Marin and the Ones against the two kids trying to kill them. Against the two kids who were in her way of getting home to Minnow and Del. Marin ducked under Ten’s arm again, accidentally biting down on her lip as she rolled out of the blade’s path.

Jumping to her feet, Marin blocked one of Ten’s blows with her dagger, twisting the cutlass up and out of Ten’s grip. It clattered to the ground out of Ten’s reach, and Marin watched in horror as Nine slashed his scythe across Lapis’ throat. Lapis dropped to the ground, blood gushing from his neck faster than he could stem its flow.

“No!” Topaz screamed, a horrible, un-ending scream, and threw herself at her district partner, covering the gaping hole in his throat with her hands.

Nine and Ten took the distraction to their advantage, and Ten ran from the Cornucopia. Assuming that Nine was on Ten’s heels, Marin kneeled next to Topaz and shook her desperately by the shoulders.

“Topaz, Topaz, stop!” she yelled, and slapped Topaz across the face, seeing her hysteria pulling her under, puling her down, down, down. Topaz was cut short mid-scream, and that was when Marin realised that the boy from Nine was about to bring his scythe down on her head.

She jumped to her feet with a shriek, ready to dive forward and bury her dagger into his heart, but all the fight left his face when a spear hit the dirt ear his feet, missing by half an inch. Ten darted back into the Cornucopia and grabbed him by the sleeve. He looked at her, and, seeming to come to his senses, ran for dear life.

Marin turned quickly back to her ally and grabbed her arm. “Topaz, I’m not kidding, if you don’t get up now we’ll both die!”

Topaz nodded, her cheeks wet, and Marin helped her to her feet. Just in time, too – the girls from Eight and Three got to the Cornucopia. Three dashed towards Marin in a crazed attempt to tackle her, while Eight grabbed a backpack and tried to run.

Marin ducked under Three’s arm, and Topaz took off after Eight. “Die!” Three screamed, trying to stab Marin, her voice slightly crazy. Marin didn’t blame her.

Three didn’t scream, when Marin slashed her throat. She gave a little sigh, as though she was simply sinking into sleep after a long day, and fell almost gracefully to the ground, slumped across Lapis’ unmoving chest.

_I just killed someone. I just killed someone. I just killed someone._

Marin pushed the thoughts from her head – obstacles. All obstacles in the way of her going home to Minnow, one less obstacle now.

She ran after Topaz – she couldn’t stay at the Cornucopia, not when Topaz was charging half-mad across a very open field. Half the supplies were broken or gone, anyway, and there was no way Marin was just going to wait around while her allies were risking their lives.

“Topaz!” she yelled, spotting her ally engaged in battle with the girl from Six. Marin jumped over the girl from Eight’s still body, and threw her dagger into the heart of Six at the same time Topaz’s rapier swung through the girl’s neck.

Six didn’t even have time to scream before she dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, her head rolling grotesquely onto the ground, staining the green grass scarlet.

Marin looked away as she took her dagger from Six’s corpse.

She covered her ears, trying to block out the death screams of the other tributes as they fell like autumn leaves around her, trying to not think of the fact that she had just killed one and a half people.

_I just killed someone. I just killed someone. I just killed someone._

Marin blinked, and uncovered her ears. The screams had stopped, and Marin looked around, counting five bodies. Only five? Then she remembered the two in the Cornucopia, their blood slowly leaking, leaking, leaking from their bodies. At least seven dead, probably more out of sight, in no more than ten minutes.

“Come on,” she muttered, taking Topaz’s arm and leading her towards where their allies – their remaining allies – had gathered in the middle of the field.

Topaz was silent, and Marin slung and arm around her shoulders. She could barely wrap her head around the fact that she had taken life, but she couldn’t imagine how Topaz was feeling – not only had she taken life, she had watched the life be taken from her district partner, her friend.

“Lapis?” Solomon asked, when they arrived. Marin shook her head, and Solomon lowered his eyes in respect for the boy they hadn’t gotten enough time to know.

“Boy from Nine got him,” Marin said. _I killed people, I killed people, I killed people,_ she thought, and then she was on all fours, the floor having swept out from underneath her. She retched and gagged but only bile came out, burning her throat. She spat, stomach acid and blood from her lip splattering onto the dirt.

Solomon helped her up, his hands as strong as ever, and she wiped her mouth, not looking at anyone. She turned to Topaz, whose eyes were glazed over, whose whole body was shaking. “Can someone please get us some water?” she croaked, and put her arm around Topaz again, leading her over to a wooden crate and sitting her down. Clearing her throat, she tried to get her voice to work again.

“Topaz,” she said, putting her hand on Topaz’s cheek. “Can you hear me?” Vita tapped her on the arm and handed her a bottle of water.

“Yeah, I can hear you just fine, Marin,” Topaz said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m fine.” She made to get up, but Marin placed a firm hand on her ally’s shoulder, gently pushing her back down.

“No you’re not. You’ve had a bad shock, sit down and let’s get some water into you,” Marin said, unscrewing the bottle and pressing it to Topaz’s lips. It was easier to help Topaz, than to think of Three and Six – easier to just forget, forget, forget than think. No, she couldn’t think about it.

“Lapis is dead,” Topaz murmured after taking a long drink of water.

“Yes,” said Marin, taking her hand and squeezing it tight. “He is.”

“He was my friend.”

“I know.”

0o0o

“So,” Vita said. “Who killed who? I killed the girl from Five.” So Eulalie was dead. Marin was glad; now she wouldn’t have to kill her, at least. She hoped it had been quick, and pushed the face, the giggle, the smile, of that sweet, scared girl from her thoughts. _Just an obstacle,_ Marin thought. _Just an obstacle._

“I got the boy from Three,” Solomon said. Marin looked at his face, but Solomon’s face was clean of any emotion – she had no way of reading him.

“Girls from Three and Six,” she managed to get out, looking anywhere but the bodies littered around the fields.

Alaric wiped his scimitar on the ground, looking up at them with shark eyes. “Boy from Twelve, boy from Eight.”

“Girl from Eight,” Topaz said. “Girl from Six.”

“Both of you got Six?” Vita asked, looking from Topaz to Marin with raised eyebrows.

“Dunno who landed the killing blow,” Topaz said, looking at the ground, kicking up clouds of dirt.

“Who killed Eleven?” Vita asked, frowning and staring at the broken girl lying in front of the Cornucopia.

“Oh,” said Marin. “That was the girl from Ten, who got her. Right in the stomach. She’s scary – very good with a cutlass, very good.” She was talking too much again. But talking was a good distraction, from her shaking hands, from the faces of the dead, from worries about Minnow. 

“And the boy from Nine got Lapis,” Topaz said quietly. They all turned to look at her; she hadn’t said much, not since Lapis… since Lapis.

She hadn’t known him well, not at all, but Marin noticed now more than ever the absence of the Ones. Topaz, who had been so cheerful in training, had retreated into herself – and of course, Lapis. Easy-going, ready-to-laugh Lapis was dead, soon to be buried.

Marin took a deep, shaky breath. “We should probably clear out for a bit. So they can collect the bodies.”

Everyone agreed, and Solomon and Alaric went to get some supplies from the Cornucopia so they could have something to eat and drink. They walked a good distance away, about halfway to the black lake – _I wonder what’s in there,_ Marin thought with a shudder, imagining claws or teeth or tentacles closing around her ankles, dragging her down, down, down into the dark.

As they watched the hovercraft collect the bodies, Marin couldn’t help but wonder whether she would someday soon be one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, the Bloodbath is done. I thought it would take me way longer to write, especially from 3 POVs, but I’ve had this story in my head so long I already know everything I want to say.
> 
> Oh, one more thing – school has started up again for me (online school) so I won’t be updating nearly as often. I can’t really say when I’ll update, it’ll probably just be as soon as I finish a chapter. I AM NOT ABANDONING this story, so don’t fear if there’s no update for a while.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, and I’d love to hear what you think!
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	12. Oh God, Oh Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna gets to know the forest - her new home.

**Arena, Forest, Day 1: Johanna Mason**

Johanna ran the opposite direction of Cassian until she couldn’t run anymore – she ran until her stomach was cramping, her lungs burning, her clothing drenched with sweat. Nobody had followed her, she was sure of that – she had been running too fast for too long for anyone to be able to successfully trail her.

Besides, she would have heard them a mile off – the only other tribute who would have a lot of practice walking silently through forests would be Elm, and possibly the tributes from Eleven. But she doubted that anyone besides possibly Maizy or Cassian would follow her – they were the only two, that she knew of, who had even the faintest inkling that she was only pretending to be a cry-baby. Cassian, of course, now knew for sure, and she wasn’t happy about that, but she didn’t really have a choice at the time.

The only trees she had seen so far were White Pines. Which was both good and bad – they were relatively easy to climb, and their thick foliage and copious branches would make them good hiding places. The drawback was that the other tributes would likely be able to climb them, and stay there hidden… waiting… watching…

Johanna shuddered, imagining people jumping out of the trees and pressing knives to her neck, her wrists, her stomach. _No,_ Johanna, she told herself, _you’re alone._

She decided it would be safer to rest a bit before attempting the climb, though. She slowly sat down, her back to the trunk, and forced herself to breathe for five minutes before she did anything. _Breathe._

She took Eulalie’s satchel off her shoulder, and set it on the ground next to her backpack. She may as well organise her supplies while she waited for her heart to go back to its usual pace.

Johanna had no idea what Magnolia had done to get her that backpack, but whatever it was, Johanna was grateful. She hadn’t had a good look yet, but she knew roughly how much was in there. It wasn’t the most well-stocked pack Johanna had seen in the history of the Hunger Games, nothing compared to what the Careers would no doubt have, but she didn’t care – it was far, far better than nothing, which is what she would have had if Magnolia hadn’t sold her soul. Or whatever it was she had done to get Johanna the backpack. Johanna decided that she didn’t really want to know.

Looking around her once more, Johanna put the bags back on her back, and made sure that the hatchet – _her_ hatchet – was tucked firmly into the backpack before she started to climb. She didn’t stop until the branches started to sway under her weight, and perched on one of the thickest branches, testing her weight before leaning back onto the trunk.

She felt as though she could be home – if she forgot about the unnatural height of the trees, it could almost be a forest back home. The smell of pine wafted to her nose, and she inhaled, closing her eyes and imagining that she was wagging school with Eurydice, perched up in the canopies until the end of the day, where they would sneak back to their houses and prepare for their shifts in the forest. Well, that was that Johanna did – Eurydice had never had to work a day in her life, thanks to Magnolia.

Opening her eyes, Johanna decided that she should probably organise her supplies, in case she had to evacuate quickly, for whatever reason.

Eulalie’s satchel didn’t have much in it other than the dagger – a small cast-iron cooking pot, which would be heavy to carry around but very useful. A large packet of dried fruit. A small lighter. A coil of golden wire, which Johanna had no idea what to do with.

 _District Five – power,_ Johanna thought. Whatever the wire was for, she had no doubt Eulalie had a plan – why else would Cassian have followed her, traded her one of his invaluable weapons for a tiny little box? She was deeply curious as to what the ‘water purifier’ did, and she imagined the wire probably had something to do with it. But on second thoughts, did she really want to know? _No,_ she decided. _I don’t._

The supplies in the dark blue backpack were much better – a small first-aid kit. A packet of trail mix, which included a large variety of fruit and nuts, as well as small pieces of dark chocolate. A large water-bottle. A small can of salmon. Four protein bars. A packet of iodine tablets. A coil of rope that Johanna estimated would be around 150 metres long when uncoiled – good for making a climbing harness, or perhaps some sort of holster for her hatchet. A serrated knife. A blanket. A large can of bear spray – oh god, oh fuck. She didn’t like that the bag included bear spray. Magnolia was obviously warning her about the mutts the arena would have.

There were bears in the forests back home – Johanna had never seen one, not up close and personal at least, but she had heard all the horror stories. Yes, every child in Seven had heard the horror stories of lumberjacks becoming the supper of a grizzly, of people disappearing only for their bones, picked clean, to turn up a few months later. And the mutts had to be bears, didn’t they, they couldn’t have been wolves or lizards? They had to be the very creature her sweet little brother was named after. But the worst thing was – they could climb almost as fast as they could run. The trees wouldn’t help her, if the bears decided they wanted a human-sized snack.

She sighed. At least she was prepared, at least she had an idea of what was to come – that would definitely give her an advantage over the rest of the poor saps, who probably had no idea what kind of mutts, what kind of threats the arena would hold. She had a bit of knowledge on her side, at the very least, and that could prove more useful than sponsors.

The anthem started, and Johanna quickly climbed further up the tree so she could see the sky through the leaves.

Boy from One. That was a surprise, he’d seemed awfully tough in training. And usually Careers didn’t die on the first day. But then again, the Careers weren’t the only threats this year.

Both from three. That wasn’t a surprise – from memory, they’d both been teeny-tiny, and had received matching small training scores – not that Johanna could talk.

Eulalie. Johanna tried not to think of the expression on little Eulalie’s face, as she toppled over, or the pained little sound she had made before taking her last breath, or the warm blood that had coated Johanna’s hands as she stripped the girl of her satchel and jacket.

Girl from Six.

Both from Eight. Johanna remembered Bernina, who had flirted with Elm so easily. Dead, and gone. Did she have family, crying for her?

Girl from Eleven.

Boy from Twelve.

At least the Careers were one member short – hopefully the boy from One had been one of their most talented allies. Johanna wondered who had killed him – probably one of Maizy’s allies, the girl from Ten or the boy from Nine, maybe. They seemed almost as scary as the Careers. Of course, Johanna had never seen them fight, but she didn’t need to – their training scores did all the talking.

She sighed again, and climbed back down to the sturdier branches. Tomorrow she would begin harvesting from the pine trees, scraping away the inedible outer bark to get to the soft inner bark. From there, she would wait until it got misty – and it was bound to, in a climate like this – and she would fry the thin strips of bark in her new cooking pot until they dried out completely. She would then be able to grind up the dry bark into powder and make some sort of flatbread. They often did this at home, often adding a pinch of salt and a bit of oil. But water would have to do – perhaps she could add some of the trail mix.

She opened one of the protein bars and looked up at the sky peeking through the leaves. There were a few early stars, blinking at her through the branches, and she wondered if it was the same sky Eurydice could see.

0o0o

Johanna tied herself to the tree with the rope before she fell asleep. She didn’t really fancy waking up on the cold, hard ground, with a broken spine, after all.

But the thing that had woken her was not a broken spine, nor was it falling out of a tree.

The cannon rang through the forest, echoing through the trees eerily, so it sounded as if dozens and dozens of cannons were going off. A cloud of bats flew through the forest, screeching, and Johanna woke with a start.

She couldn’t tell exactly how far away it had been, not with the echoes, but it had been close, she ws sure of it. As quietly as possible, Johanna untied herself from the tree and folded up her blanket, tucking them both back into her backpack. She couldn’t hear anything, but if anything came hurtling through the trees, she wanted to be prepared enough to run. _Bears. It could be bears,_ she thought, and took the can of bear spray out of Eulalie’s satchel, holding her finger over the trigger, ready to spray.

She climbed, one-handed, a few branches down, and waited for something – anything – to appear, but nothing did. She let out a long sigh – nobody had told her about the constant paranoia, the boredom that came with being in the arena – maybe Magnolia should have taught her how to keep herself occupied instead of a billion wrestling techniques she hadn’t even gotten to use yet.

 _Bide your time, Johanna,_ she thought. Something was sure to happen soon – and when it did, she knew that she would wish for boredom instead.

**Arena, Forest, Day 2**

The sun that peeked through the branches was pale, and Johanna was pleased at the thick white fog that had settled over everything – hopefully it would last long enough for her to fry the pine strips. She wouldn’t risk it otherwise, not on clear days, but she needed something to do, and she couldn’t live off protein bars and trail mix forever.

Delicately, Johanna climbed lower down the tree, not all the way to the ground – she didn’t want to leave a trail of any sort if she could help it, and that included patches she’d carved off trees. She took all her supplies with her. It was as good a time as any to move trees – it wasn’t wise to stay in the same place for too long, otherwise the audience would get bored. And when the audience got bored, what did they do? _Bears._

Grimacing, Johanna took out her knife, and after glancing around her she began scraping away at the bark. Scooping the white inner bark out, she dumped it in the cooking pot before climbing all the way down the tree. That was a rule they had, in Seven – don’t take all from a single tree, or the dryads will be out for your blood. And Johanna really did not need dryads to be out for her blood on top of the rest of the tributes and, of course, the bears. _They’re soon to make an appearance sometime soon._

That was how she spent her afternoon, moving slowly from tree to tree, and harvesting the bark. It would definitely be a bit hard to choke down after a whole week of melt-in-your-mouth food, but she would bear it – she was from Seven, and pine bark was a staple in the diet of every household in the district. Even the wealthy weren’t strangers to raw pine bark, or boiled pine bark, or pine tea… Johanna realised she had been muttering aloud, and furiously bit her lip. _Am I an idiot, or what?_

There was nobody in her vicinity, though, so she thought she would probably be safe. As safe as it was possible to be in the arena, anyway.

The fog was thinning, so she wouldn’t be able to risk a fire today – hopefully tomorrow, in the early morning light, the fog would be back, settling around the forest like a blanket, concealing Johanna – and anyone who was possibly out to kill her – in its depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.
> 
> Hi there, friendos. I really struggled with this chapter, and I’ve been super duper busy with school and stuff, so sorry it’s a bit late (not that I have an actual update schedule or anything but y’know). Also it’s way shorter than usual, but a short chapter is better than no chapter, in my opinion.
> 
> I was wondering – would anyone be interested in reading a story just about Marin? I was thinking I could talk more about her backstory, upbringing and training. I know a lot of you really seem to like her, and I love writing her (I also reallyyyyy don’t want to kill her off… it has to happen though, unfortunately) so maybe that could make her death a little bit easier for all of us to cope with, when it happens! I’d also really like to get more of an idea of what training is like for the Careers, so it would be interesting for me to write about that. Idk. It was just a thought.
> 
> Shout-out to Starlight_Wren, who gave me some great advice on how to write this chapter! Go check out her stories, she's a fantastic writer :)
> 
> Next chapter isn’t Johanna, it’s someone we haven’t heard from yet! Not directly, anyway. Have any guesses?
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	13. Magnolia: Fraternizing with the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia yells at Johanna from afar, and tries to help a fellow mentor.

**Capitol, Control Centre, District Seven’s Room, Day 3** **: Magnolia Babineaux**

“How’s she doing?” Blight asked, dropping into the seat next to hers.

Magnolia shrugged, tapping her fingers on the table, having drunk far too much coffee in a worryingly small amount of time. It buzzed through her veins and, combined with the nerves she felt, made her extremely jittery. “Fine. She is still up a tree.”

“Good girl,” Blight said approvingly. Magnolia had waited until the Games had started before telling Blight Johanna’s strategy, and he had been very understanding. “And Elm?”

“Also fine. He is on the other side of the lake – far away from the Careers, do not worry.” The Careers had set up camp near the black lake, in view of the Cornucopia. Elm was on the other side, having trekked around a mountain for the first few days, and had climbed a tree. He could see the Careers, but they couldn’t see him, and she hoped it would stay that way.

“Good lad,” Blight said with a nod. “Well, we’re doing better than we did last year.”

“Yes,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee and avoiding Blight’s gaze. “We are.”

Their tributes last year had died in the Bloodbath and on the first night, respectively, but they had never had much chance in the first place – the boy was twelve, a tiny thing, and the girl was a malnourished fourteen year old from the orphanage. From the moment Magnolia had seen them, she had known there was not much she could do to help them.

“Why don’t you go have a couple hours of rest?” Blight said, gesturing to the door. “I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“No,” Magnolia said, shaking her head in refusal. “Something is going to happen soon – I have no doubt that the audience is getting bored.” She could feel it in her gut that something was going to happen. She had never not listened to her intuition, and she do not intend to ignore it this time around. Especially because Blight told her to.

“The Bloodbath always keeps the Capitol occupied for at least a couple of days. Trust me, Nolia, nothing’s going to happen,” he said, trying to be reassuring. He meant well; she knew that. But by the dryads did he get on her nerves. She had been a mentor far longer than he had, and yet he still thought that he knew what was best for their tributes.

She shook her head again. “There has not been another death since the girl from Twelve, and not many died in the Bloodbath. It’s not enough.”

“No. But even though not many died, the Bloodbath was gory, and exciting – I mean, it isn’t often you see a tribute from Nine take down a tribute from One. And especially not in the first ten minutes, I think that was a first.”

“Would you just goddamn trust me?” Magnolia snapped.

She was so sick of him acting as though she was a clueless old lady – even though she may be old, she was _not_ clueless. She had spent years learning the ways of the Gamemakers, years getting used to the patterns they used, and years learning how to trust her gut. But that did not matter – of course she was a clueless old lady, of course she was, and of course Blight knew best, of course he did.

“Something is going to happen. And soon.” She angrily slurped her coffee, which had by now grown cold. “I can feel it in my bones, Blight, my very bones!”

Blight sighed. “Whatever you say, Nolia.”

“Are there any sponsors yet?” she asked. She did not think there would be – but she could hope.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Tried all the tricks, and still nothing.”

“Damn,” she said, snapping her fingers. “I thought that Johanna’s little run-in with Five would have boosted interest. Are you sure that there is nothing else you can do?”

“Magnolia, I tried all the tricks,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. Which told her that he _hadn’t_ tried all the tricks.

“ _All_ of them?” she asked, eyebrows raised. Ah, the tricks – there were enough to fill a book.

Blight pulled a face. “Well, no, not what you’re referring to, but it’s only the third day, Magnolia, and barely. Give it some time.”

Magnolia huffed. “Fine.”

This was exactly why she was the best mentor for the job – Blight just did not care enough. He was not uncaring, not at all, but he did not care enough. Unfortunately, she and him were the only mentors who would actually do something – Jamie was an old fart, (not that she wasn’t) and he was slowly but surely losing his marbles (which she wasn’t). Cypress was up the tree. Oscar was more interested in partying.

She could not completely blame Blight, though – he had far more suitors than she did, being younger and much better looking than she was. But that did not make them any less repulsive, and she preferred not to turn to Horatio if she could help it. She did not like what he asked of her in return.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get some rest?” Blight asked. “I really don’t mind taking over, you’ve been here for what, three days now?”

“I am fine,” she said, though she was oh so tired – she hadn’t slept since the Games began, choosing instead to drink copious amounts of coffee, and take a few twenty-minute power naps each day. Blight had wandered in and out, trying to convince her to let him take over, but she could not risk that – she was a much better mentor than he was. He had gotten out of the arena, yes, but only with her help. If she had left it to Jamie, he would have died with his back-stabbing district partner.

Blight shook his head. He was exasperated with her – he often was. “Magnolia, there’s dedication and there’s being irrational. You are being irrational.”

Magnolia flashed him her pearly whites, which were actually pearly yellows. “Yes, Blight, thank you for pointing that out. Now kindly shut up. Dear.”

“Fine, Magnolia,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to go talk to Gloss.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy!” Magnolia accused jokingly, pointing a quivering finger at him. She hated that her hands shook, hated hated hated it, but they had shaken from the moment her axe entered the chest of the boy from Two, shaken since she had stepped foot on the hovercraft and exited her arena. Although it sometimes felt as though she had never truly left it.

“Ha ha, Magnolia, very funny,” Blight said, trying to seem annoyed – but she saw the smile he was trying to hide. “Do you want me to tell Cashmere you said that?”

Magnolia groaned. If there was a Victor she hated more than any other, it was Cashmere. She could not stand the simpering, shallow woman from One, with her pretty face and frigid personality. “Please do not, if she comes over to talk to me I think I will eat a nightlock berry.”

“Understood,” Blight said, and rose from his seat. “I’m going to ask one more time – are you sure you don’t want to go –“

“In the names of all the dryads, hamadryades and deities, Blight, I do not want to sleep. Now leave me be before I do something rash.”

“Very well,” Blight said defeatedly, sighing once more before exiting Seven’s control room.

0o0o

Magnolia was rudely taken from her daydream by the sound of screaming coming from next door – Iris and Danton. So perhaps they were not high as kites after all, perhaps they were doing their jobs for once. She jumped up, snapping to attention, and that was when she saw what was happening on the monitors.

Oh god, the bears. They were horrible things, with long, pointed fangs reminiscent of a viper’s, and sharp-looking claws that gleamed in the dim sunlight of the forest. They were at least twice the size of a regular bear, and there were about five of them.

Horatio had told her about the mutts, which is why she had requested there be a can of bear spray in the backpack – it had cost an extra hour of her time, but it had been worth it, even if Horatio made her skin crawl, even if he made her want to set herself on fire and fling herself from the roof of the training centre. If it would help her tribute – who happened to be her precious granddaughter’s beloved – so be it.

The bears growled viciously, and Magnolia watched as all the colour drained from Johanna’s face. It was terrible timing – she had only come down from her tree to answer the call of nature. Thankfully, she had had the sense to bring her satchel of weapons with her, with her hatchet slung over her shoulder in the makeshift sling she’d made from rope and the girl from Five’s jacket. Magnolia was glad, not for the first time since the Games had begun, that she’d taught Johanna and Eurydice to be useful.

“They can climb, they can climb,” Magnolia muttered, wishing that Johanna could hear her. Blight re-entered the room, but Magnolia barely registered his presence, clutching the table and gazing at the screen.

Johanna took the lid off the bear spray, holding the can firmly in her hand and looking around her frantically. All the trees were large, and easy for a bear to climb, and for a moment Johanna looked around frantically. Then she took off running towards the thinnest tree in sight, a younger one than the rest. Magnolia watched with bated breath as Johanna leapt to the lowest branch, pulling herself up with one arm and darting nimbly up the tree as easily as a squirrel would. The bears were close behind her, and all five of them swarmed at the tree.

“Motherfucker,” Magnolia said under her breath, and Blight put a comforting hand on her shoulder as the tree swayed, cracking ominously as the bears pushed it from every side. One tried to climb it, but the branches broke beneath it, and the bears resorted to barrelling into it head-first in attempts to push it down. They may have been vicious, but they were not the smartest mutts in the arena, and for that Magnolia was glad.

Johanna shrieked from the top, and Magnolia jumped to her feet, clutching the table so hard her knuckles quickly turned white.

“The bear spray, you idiot girl, use the bear spray!” she cried, slamming her fists on the table.

Johanna seemed to hear her this time, and looked at her hand as though she was only just remembering the can clutched tightly in her grip.

She sprayed a cloud of the stuff down at the bears, and they howled, sounding more like wolves. Johanna coughed and rubbed her eyes, but the bear spray wasn’t designed to cause too much pain to humans, thankfully. The bears fled, and Magnolia realised that she had been holding her breath for an awfully long time without being completely aware of the fact. She let out a long breath, and looked over at Blight, who looked just as relieved as she felt.

“Thank the dryads,” Blight said, mopping his brow with his sleeve, and Magnolia nodded her agreement.

There was a terrified scream from the other monitor, the one dedicated to the other tributes, and Magnolia glanced over to see the boy from Six frantically trying to pull himself up a tree. Even if he succeeded, it would not have been much help to him – the tree was one the bears would easily climb, with a thick trunk and sturdy branches. But he was not doing too well with the climbing – his arms were basically glorified twigs, and the panic in his face grew by the second as the bears got closer and closer to him, and further and further away from Johanna.

“The bears!” Magnolia heard Iris shout from the next room. “The bears, the bears, the bears!”

The boy did not climb. The bears easily caught up to him, and claws closed around his calf, slowly dragging him down from the branch he had managed to pull himself up onto. Beads of blood painted scarlet trails down his pasty white legs, his fingers frantically scrabbling at the bark before he was yanked like a ragdoll from the tree, down into the clutches of the bears, who tore into the child.

Magnolia looked away. She did not need to watch to know that he was a goner, his agonising screams – and the wails of his mentors – did all the talking necessary. Blight reached over and switched off the sound, and Magnolia patted his shoulder in thanks.

“I am going to see how Iris is doing,” she said, needing to get out of the room, feeling as though the walls were closing in on her. Johanna was safe for now – the grisly end of the boy from Six was surely enough to keep the audience satiated for the rest of the day at least.

Magnolia let herself into Six’s room, where Iris was sitting alone, crouching in the corner, her hands clamped firmly over her ears. Danton had already left, probably headed back to Six’s penthouse to shoot up morphine. “Iris, dear, let me get you a cup of tea. Come,” Magnolia said, gently gripping Iris’ forearm, and the woman thankfully rose from her crouch without complaint.

Magnolia led her out of the room and into the main area, from which all the control rooms were connected. Leading her over to one of the luxurious sofas, Magnolia watched as Seeder slowly, calmly, made her way over to them. She tentatively took a seat next to the weeping Iris, passing her a warm mug of hot chocolate, with foamy milk and chocolate powder on top.

“I’m so sorry, Iris,” Seeder said, rubbing Iris’ back.

Iris didn’t say anything, staring at the wall with bloodshot eyes, jiggling her knee and drumming her fingers on the purple fabric of the couch.

Seeder glanced at Magnolia, who nodded – Seeder had always been the best at comforting her fellow mentors. “Why don’t you tell us about him?”

“Evander. Called Evander. His favourite colour was… orange, he told us he liked orange.”

“Like the sunset,” Seeder said softly.

“Yes,” Iris breathed, finally looking at them, the whites of her green eyes jaundiced and bloodshot, purple bags framing them. Years of drugs would do that to a person, although Magnolia did not know a Victor who didn’t have purple bags. Sleeping was just another thing the arena took from its survivors. “Sunset.”

“I will leave you be,” Magnolia said, patting Seeder on the shoulder. Magnolia had never been one for comforting; Seeder usually took that role, and she was good at it, too.

“Thank you, Magnolia,” Seeder said with a small smile.

Magnolia nodded at her friend and rose from her seat; she would take Blight’s offer, after all. As awful as it was, she was glad that the boy from Six – Evander – had died, because it meant that Johanna would likely be left alone for at least the rest of the day. And Magnolia really was very tired – the three days of coffee, and short naps, were taking its toll on her body.

“Blight, I am going to go and get some sleep now,” she announced, kicking open Seven’s door.

“About time,” Blight said, shaking his head in amusement. “Go ahead. They’ll be alright.”

Magnolia doubted that very much, but left the room regardless.

0o0o

“Noni?” Eurydice’s voice was slightly crackly, but Magnolia smiled.

“Yes, darling,” she said. “How are you?”

Eurydice sighed. “Bad. Fine. How are you? How’s Jojo? I was watching, but she hasn’t been on camera for a while. Does she have food? I can’t believe the bears nearly got her, I was practically shitting myself– “

“Slow down, Eurydice,” Magnolia said with a light laugh. “She is fine. She has plenty of food, she is in good health, and she should be left alone for a while now.”

“But how d’you know that, Noni?” Eurydice asked.

Her voice was slightly high-pitched, Magnolia noticed. That was what her voice did when she was stressed and trying to hide it – her granddaughter had never been as good of an actress as Johanna was. Although, perhaps Magnolia knew Eurydice so well it was impossible for her granddaughter to hide anything from her.

“Well,” she said, wondering how she could word her response. “I don’t, darling. But I can assure you that for now, she is fine.”

“You _will_ get her out, won’t you, Noni?” Eurydice asked desperately.

“Yes, my darling girl, of course I will get her out.”

“Do you promise?”

Magnolia’s mouth went dry. “I promise, Eurydice,” she all but rasped. The second the words had left her mouth, she regretted them – why had she done that? Why had she promised something she couldn’t guarantee? What would Eurydice do if Magnolia do not manage to keep her promise?

“Good,” Eurydice said, sounding relieved, which made Magnolia feel even guiltier. “Thank you. Oh. Mama wants to speak to you.”

“Put her on, dear,” Magnolia said. “I love you.”

She surprised herself with those words – the way her family showed love was through actions, through how they treated each other. But Magnolia was glad she had said it.

“Love you too, Noni,” Eurydice replied, a tinge of surprise in her voice.

There was a rustle as the phone was handed over, before Sylvia’s voice spoke in her ear. “Mama?”

“Hello, Sylvie,” said Magnolia. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” said her daughter. “Eurydice is a wreck.”

“I am not surprised.”

“She’s been running off with Cypress and Myrtle again. I’ve told her not to, but you know her, she-“

“Does not listen,” Magnolia finished.

“No. She doesn’t. Mama, I’m scared she’s going to get herself into trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” asked Magnolia. Eurydice had always been carefree, but Magnolia wasn’t worried about her – she had a good head on her shoulders, and had been raised to know what was right. Magnolia doubted that she would do anything stupid.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Sylvia with a sigh. “But you know Cypress. And Myrtle.”

Magnolia rolled her eyes. Cypress was a good kid, but even more irresponsible than Oscar was. And his sister was no better. “Yes, I do.”

“What should I do, Mama?”

“I suppose just try to keep track of her as much as possible,” Magnolia said. “Try to keep her at home.”

“Well, she’s barely been leaving the TV, so that shouldn’t be too hard. She’s started sleeping in the living room.”

“Again, I am not surprised. But it will be okay, Sylvie. We will get through this.”

There was a pause, and Magnolia heard Sylvia’s shaky breathing on the line. “I don’t know what she’ll do, Mama. If Johanna dies.”

Magnolia shook her head, even though she knew that Sylvia couldn’t see her. “Johanna is not going to die.” She found that she meant it. She had promised Eurydice – and she knew she would uphold that promise to the best of her ability. What else could she do, but bring Johanna home?

“But how do you know, Mama?” Sylvia asked.

“I made a promise,” Magnolia said firmly, twisting the cord of the phone through her fingers. “A promise that I intend to keep.”

**Capitol, Control Centre, District Seven’s Room, Day 4**

The Control Centre was far quieter than it had been on the first day – Beetee, Wiress, Calcula, Cecelia, Bobbie and Woof had been the first of them to leave, as all the tributes from 3 and 8 died in the Bloodbath. They were closely followed by Haymitch, and then, of course, Iris and Danton, who hadn’t remained after the death of Evander.

“It is eerie how much of a difference it makes without all of us here,” Magnolia murmured to Seeder. The Centre still had the buzz of conversation all through it, as mentors talked to each other and yelled at their tributes onscreen.

“I know,” Seeder replied, her eyes downcast.

She was a great mentor, and a wonderful friend, and Magnolia did not know how she would cope every year without Eleven’s Victor – but sometimes Magnolia wished that Seeder would just stay home. She always got terribly sad, not just over the deaths of her own tributes, but of the death of each child. Empathy was a good thing to have, but having too much of it – especially as a mentor – was sometimes a death sentence. And Magnolia often feared that Seeder would take the same way out countless other Victors had taken, unable to cope with mentoring – the quick way out.

“How is your boy doing?” Magnolia asked, watching her friend closely.

“Lynx,” Seeder told her. It was a fitting name for the boy – he was quick, and sneaky. “He’s hiding in the tropical grove.”

“Is he really?” Magnolia hoped that Johanna would not venture to the tropics. She had no doubt that the little grove would contain hundreds of deadly things, from mutts to plants.

“Yes.”

“I have to admit, that surprises me,” she said. “It is very different to the rest of the arena.”

“He’s a smart boy,” Seeder said, before covering a yawn with her hand. “Sorry, my gosh. Chaff is here now, and so I’m going to go catch up on sleep.”

“Sweet dreams,” Magnolia said, reaching out and patting Seeder’s arm.

“Thanks, Nolia. Good luck to you… and to your tributes,” Seeder said, clasping Magnolia’s hands tightly between her own before letting go.

Magnolia made her way back into Seven’s room, where Oscar had come down for a couple of hours. Magnolia do not like it when the younger ones mentored, especially not Oscar, but he had to learn at some point. She wouldn’t live forever, as much as she might want to.

“Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Oscar was muttering.

“What is going on?” Magnolia asked, handing him a mug of coffee, which he set down on the table. That was when she looked at the monitors. “Oh. Shit.”

The girl from Ten was crouched next to what looked like a piece of red, raw meat. Except, it couldn’t have been, as the hunk of meat was screaming, its mouth barely resembling a mouth anymore – it looked as though whoever it was had been skinned alive.

“Dryads,” Magnolia breathed. “Is that her district partner?”

“Yep,” Oscar said through clenched teeth. “I think I’m going to-“ he started to say, and then grabbed the trashcan and deposited of his breakfast.

“There, there,” Magnolia said, patting his back lightly. “You should be used to this by now.”

“I’ll never be used to it, Magnolia. This is – dryads,” he exhaled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “It’s sick. That girl is evil.”

“I will not disagree,” she said, bobbing her head. She did not know Ten’s story, but the torture seemed unnecessary. Perhaps the girl was doing it to gain sponsors – if that was her plan, Magnolia do not doubt its success. She was mostly surprised that the girl was killing her district partner. “But remember that she is a tribute too.”

“I’m going to go get some air. I can’t – ugh. I can’t,” he said, still looking green, and exited the room before Magnolia could say a thing.

She was angry. He was legally a mentor now, but still he could not stomach a bit of blood and gore, despite what he had seen – and done – in the arena.

“He is a Victor, for crying out loud,” she said to herself. Although, she could not one hundred percent blame him – he may have killed people, yes, but Oscar had never tortured anyone. Not like what the girl from Ten was doing to her district partner.

Magnolia left the room – there would not be any mutt attacks, not while Ten was being tortured. That should keep the Gamemakers content for a little while, at the very least. And Johanna was far away from the rest of the tributes, as was Elm, although Magnolia was far more committed to saving Johanna. She had to – for her granddaughter.

She had promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while; things have been hectic. I have lots of schoolwork, and most of it's online, so that’s fun :/ I get to go on campus for one class, which breaks it up a bit – I never thought I would say it, but I’m actually happy to go into school, just to get out of the house.
> 
> I skipped ahead a little in the story, I hope you don’t mind. Nothing much was scheduled to happen in my plot, so I decided that Magnolia could cover the first couple of days so things can start to get interesting. A lot is planned in the future, and it’s going to get a bit crazy – so hold onto your hats, my dears, for this ride is about to get twisty.
> 
> Jo and Marin will be back soon, and you’ll also be hearing from several other characters in the near future. Oh, and one more thing – the chapters are probably going to get a bit shorter, so I can change perspectives while keeping it relatively linear. Sorry about that, but I think it’ll help to make more sense.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	14. The Fine Art of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has a run-in with some mutts, and steals someone else's sponsor gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Dedicated to the One I Love by The Mamas and the Papas

**Arena, Forest, Day 3: Johanna Mason**

“Oh, you sons of bitches,” Johanna muttered, frantically leaping to her feet and pulling up her pants. Of course the Gamemakers had to release the Mutts when she was right in the middle of having a shit – that was how they rolled.

She had left her backpack with the majority of her supplies in the top of the tree, but had thankfully had enough sense to bring the satchel full of weapons with her. At least she wasn’t _completely_ unprepared for the attack.

The bears growled from behind her, and Johanna took off running, taking the can of bear spray out of her satchel as she went. _Bears can climb,_ she remembered. So which tree to pick? She went with a relatively young one, its trunk still thin, its branches still green. The bears would easily climb one of the larger trees, but they would struggle with this small one – the branches would snap under their weight, and from the look of them, they weighed at least half a tonne.

Leaping at the tree, Johanna hoped that the branches would be able to take her weight – they would need to, or else she was about to become the supper of a bear. Though the branches looked as though they would snap, they held strong, and Johanna darted up the tree as quickly as she could, just narrowly missing a bear’s jaw closing onto her ankle. Its teeth sunk into the leg of another bear instead, and Johanna grinned when she heard the yelp.

They ran at the tree, and the pit in Johanna’s stomach grew as she realised what the bears were trying to do. _They’re trying to knock the tree down._ If that happened, she was dead meat – she wouldn’t be able to outrun them, she knew that. The only reason she had even made it to the tree was because she had noticed the bears while they were still a good distance away from her.

The tree started to crack, and before she could help herself, a scream had torn its way from her mouth. “Shit!” she screeched, clinging onto the tree for dear life – literally.

What would Magnolia tell her to do? What would Magnolia do if she was here instead of Johanna?

It was then that Johanna remembered the bear spray. She wanted to smack herself for being such an utter dumbass, but there would be plenty of time for self-hatred after the bears had gone on their merry way – hopefully in the direction of another tribute.

She sprayed the horrible stuff down at the bears, and grinned as they howled, before she got a whiff of it and her eyes started to water. Coughing, she watched through her tears as the bears took off in the opposite direction. If they were dogs, Johanna thought that their tails would probably be between their legs.

Not wanting another nose-ful of the bear spray, Johanna decided to wait in the tree for a while so the stuff could disperse. She wondered what it was, exactly, it didn’t say on the can – it just said bear spray, nothing more. _Whatever it is, I love it,_ she thought, and jokingly gave the bright red can a kiss. Leaning back onto the trunk, Johanna smiled – she had lived another day.

She sat up straight when the screams started in the distance – obviously the bears _had_ found another tribute. It was an extremely grim death, and she knew that the mutts usually liked to play with their food, so it would likely be a long one, too. But at least it would keep the audiences entertained – hopefully it would keep the Gamemakers off her back, just for the next few days or so.

She was still shaking from the adrenaline, and her fingers itched to throw her axe into a tree – or better yet, someone’s head – but Johanna knew she had to be patient. The time would come soon, she was sure, and as she walked shakily back to her tree, she decided that she couldn’t wait. She was tired of being a sitting duck – she wanted to get home to Eurydice.

0o0o

The anthem showed the face of the boy from Six, whose name she couldn’t remember. He hadn’t stood out much to her at training, and evidently he hadn’t stood out much to the Gamemakers, either, because they decided that he was dispensable. Of course, they had decided that she was, too, but they wouldn’t have given her time to get away if they didn’t want her to escape.

Maybe they had figured out her act by now – maybe she would get some sponsors soon. She lit up momentarily at the thought, but then she remembered again who she was up against – the vicious girl from Two, and her silent-but-deadly counterpart, who would probably strangle anyone who called him silent-but-deadly. The beautiful girl from One, who fought as though she was dancing. And of course the gorgeous pair from Four – the boy, with those swimmer muscles and green eyes, and the girl, who had charmed the audience. The girl who had the kid.

And that wasn’t to mention the others – scarily intelligent Cassian, the crazy girl from Ten, the huge boy from Nine.

No, Johanna was nothing special in the eyes of the Capitol.

Not yet.

**Arena, Forest, Day 4**

Johanna didn’t think that her heart had stopped racing since the bears had chased her. She couldn’t push them from her mind – their gnashing teeth, the sound of their claws scraping the tree, and of course the faint screams of the boy from Six as they presumably tore him to pieces. Johanna knew that she would have had a similar fate to the boy, had it not been for the bear spray she’d almost forgotten to use in the chaos.

She knew that she had to move – that had probably been her mistake, staying in the same patch of forest. Besides, she needed to find some more water – she’d managed to stretch what was perhaps two days’ worth of water over five, slurping the condensation off of leaves and sucking the moisture out of moss. But now her water bottle had maybe a mouthful or two left, and she had developed a horrible headache – she needed to move.

Johanna had managed to keep herself busy since the first day, organising and re-organising her supplies, counting calories, and constructing a make-shift sling for her hatchet out of Eulalie’s jacket and the rope. She had also pounded the fried pine bark into flour, and had sacrificed some of her water to make some sort of lumpy dough, which she was hoping would rise a bit. It was currently sealed tightly in her cooking pot, and she had folded in most of the dried fruit to make the bread more palatable, when she had the opportunity to cook it. It would have to be soon, or it would grow mouldy, but there hadn’t been any mist for a while, and she didn’t want to risk broadcasting her location to the rest of the tributes with a fire. That would be a supremely shitty idea.

Making sure all of her supplies were packed neatly into her bags, Johanna climbed down the tree, leaving a peanut at the base as thanks to the tree’s dryad for her hospitality. She couldn’t sacrifice much, as her food had dwindled worryingly quickly, but she was sure that the dryads would understand her situation.

She had waited patiently as the sun crept lower and lower in the sky, watching the horizon, itching to get up in move. She had remained, almost paralysed in fear, in her tree after the bear attack, and had held off from going to the bathroom until she felt she might burst. It was just like the Gamemakers to attack when her pants were down – they were perverted sons of bitches, the lot of them. One day they’d be sorry, and Johanna couldn’t wait until that day came.

As the forest thinned, Johanna could see more and more of the inky black sky through the canopies of the forest. The ground was littered with pine needles, and Johanna was sorry to leave the forest – both because it reminded her of home, and because she knew how to survive there – but she didn’t have much choice. She hadn’t seen any evidence of a stream in the forest, and she knew there had to be one somewhere, but she needed to find water as soon as possible.

Her best chance was to get as close to the lake as she dared – she would need to be careful, as that was the territory of the Careers, she guessed, being close to the Cornucopia as well as the most obvious water source. But sometimes there were small streams flowing from or near lakes, and they were exactly what Johanna wanted to find. The water would be safer to drink than the water from the lake, for one thing, so long as she treated it. She also did not want to go too close to the Careers.

There was probably water in the tropical grove, but did she really want to venture there? There was no telling what horrible mutts or poisons the grove contained, and though it was likely to contain a water source of some sort, Johanna didn’t want the risk. Although, there would always be risks no matter how careful she was – it _was_ the Hunger Games, after all.

She looked up at the sky, and a handful of stars were scattered across it, like grains of white sugar. She missed Eurydice more than ever – they often snuck out at night to go stargazing. Johanna would bring an old blanket to separate their backs from the dirt, and Eurydice would bring snacks – popped corn or berries, usually, but sometimes she would get her hands on some chocolate, which was usually in short supply in their district, sometimes imported from Eleven for the Peacekeepers.

Johanna hadn’t known how much it could hurt, being away from the ones she loved, but she was finding out. With every step, she was reminded just how far she was from her family, from Eurydice. With every step further away from the forest she was reminded just how far she was from her home. And with every step her dehydration grew, and she was reminded just how far she was from health. But it was being away from her family that hurt the most. Of course, she counted Eurydice as her family.

The night was dark, and she was quiet, her feet trained in the fine art of silence. And in the silence, as she closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky, she heard the faint bubbling of flowing water – and it wasn’t too far away.

She followed the sound, looking around her with every step she took. If someone snuck up on her, she’d have a good chance – with the hatchet slung over her shoulder, and the dagger that was clutched firmly in her hand, she would easily be able to fight someone off.

The bubbling grew louder, and Johanna smiled wide – dehydration would not be the thing that took her. If she had to die, she would die fighting, she wouldn’t die half-delirious, tongue dry and swollen. She would die on her own terms.

She knelt next to the stream, and dipped a leaf into it to make sure it wasn’t acid. That had happened before – Johanna couldn’t remember which Games it was, it was likely a recap, but she could remember seeing a pair of tributes jump merrily into what they thought was an innocent river, only to have all the flesh melted from their bones.

When she was certain it was water, she dipped her hands into the cool stream, washing them for the first time in days. Scooping a handful into her grimy hands, Johanna washed her face, feeling refreshed, before taking her bottle out of her satchel. Downing the last mouthful, she filled the bottle to the brim, and dropped in one of the iodine tablets before putting it back in her satchel.

She desperately wanted to strip off and jump in, wishing she could scrub the grime and sweat from her body, but she wouldn’t risk it. The rushing water was good as it alerted her of the stream’s presence, but it would also cover up the sounds of footsteps as they crept closer, and closer, and closer…

Her heart jumping in her throat, Johanna whirled around, dagger raised, her hand flying back to her hatchet, ready to tug it from the sling and send it flying into someone’s forehead. But there was nobody standing behind her, even though she could have sworn that the footsteps she imagined had been real. The paranoia would kill her, if a tribute or mutt didn’t. Yes, the paranoia would be her end, even if she didn’t die. In her imagination, the silence had grown into a person, and the person had grown into a bloodthirsty giant, ready to tear her head from her neck.

Shuddering, Johanna walked quickly away from the stream. The forest was very thin around it, but it would still be possible to hide. It would do for the night.

How many of them were left now? There had been nine in the Bloodbath, plus the girl from Twelve, the boy from Six and the boy from Ten, who had died earlier that day. There were twelve of them left – she was already halfway home.

Despite herself, Johanna hoped that Elm had survived – even though she didn’t like the dude that much, he was from home, and he did have a good heart. She couldn’t forget his mother’s heart-wrenching sobs at the Reaping. She knew he would have to die eventually, but she couldn’t help but feel as though him dying would make everything real. As though she still wasn’t truly in the arena. She wasn’t exactly sure how to make sense of her thoughts – _I guess I need some sleep._

A movement on the ground caught her eye, and Johanna held her breath, watching the two figures hurry upstream before fading from her sight. It was impossible to tell who it was, as she could only make out their silhouettes, but whoever they were, they were small. And laden down with supplies. Johanna guessed that it was Maizy and Cassian – they were by far the smallest surviving tributes, apart from Marin (whose name had stuck in her mind for some reason), but Johanna doubted it was her because the rest of the Careers were so tall. And it made sense, too – when Johanna had spoken to Cassian, he had had his arms full of food and weapons.

The anthem had played earlier, and the good-looking boy from Ten had appeared in the sky, giving them all one last smirk before disappearing forever. Johanna wondered who had killed him – he had gotten a Career score, and if his muscles were anything to go by, he could put up a good fight. She was glad that he was dead.

She would have to wait until the next day to find out who the most recent cannon belonged to – she hoped it was one of the Careers.

Johanna didn’t think the Games would last too long – the tributes were already half gone, and if people kept dying at the rate they currently were, Johanna doubted she would have to wait too long to get home to Eurydice, and her siblings, and her parents. She didn’t exactly like the idea of killing people, but she would do it without hesitation when the time came. And she knew that the time would come very soon. Yes, she would do it – she would kill. For her family.

For Eurydice.

**Arena, Stream, Day 5**

Johanna woke in the early hours of the morning to the boom of a cannon, and knew she had to move. The cannon had been far too close for her liking, not to mention the two silhouettes she had seen, quietly creeping through the trees. At least she knew about the stream, now – she decided she would follow it. Downstream, so as to avoid whoever it was she had seen last night.

She checked the dough, which had risen slightly, and knew she would have to cook it that day. She didn’t think food poisoning would be too fun to deal with in the arena, not that it was fun to deal with anywhere, but it would be even shittier in the arena. Quickly eating her last protein bar, she went through her supplies again – she still had a can of salmon, as well as most of the trail mix. There would be bread, soon, as well, but first she needed to cook it.

She walked along the stream, listening carefully in case there was anyone around her, but it was still quite dark. It was cold, too, so hopefully it would be foggy later and she could build a fire.

Johanna stopped in her tracks when she saw the construction. Squatting next to it, she reached out before thinking better of it and bringing her hand back. It looked like one of the dams the beavers built in the river back home, but this one was unmistakably human made. She could see the lake from here, peeking through the trees, and wondered if it was something the Careers had built. But what did it do? What purpose did it serve? Maybe it belonged to Cassian and Maizy, or whoever she had seen last night. But it made sense that it would be Cassian, as he of all people would know how to build a dam, being from Five and all. But why?

There were shiny strands of wire threaded through it, looping around the sticks and branches. It looked exactly like the wire that had come with Eulalie’s satchel…

A chill ran down her spine. She didn’t know why, or what had caused it, but Johanna turned and fled, ducking under branches and running back into the relative safety of the forest.

She wasn’t sure why she had gotten so panicked so quickly – there hadn’t even been a noise to tell her that something was wrong. But Johanna knew that something bad was about to happen, and it was about to happen close to where she was.

And she had to get away.

Breathing quickly, Johanna fought down the anxiety in her stomach. And that was when she heard the scream, too close for her liking. It came from the direction of the lake, ringing eerily through the forest. It was a male scream, and probably one of the older boys, and it was guttural and pained. She couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from, but she quickly scaled the tallest tree she could find. Maybe she could figure out exactly what she was up against – maybe a second Bloodbath was taking place and she would learn the weapons of her opponents.

Climbing right up to the very top of the tree, Johanna could easily see the lake, and though she couldn’t quite make out the figures on the ground, she could see someone thrashing on the grass. And there was another, smaller figure, darting away, her long red hair trailing behind her as she fled out of sight.

Maizy.

Seeing Maizy, plus her suspicions about the dam, confirmed to her that it _had_ been Cassian and Maizy she had seen last night. She knew they had been in an alliance at the Cornucopia – but Cassian had been alone during the trade. What had made them become allies again, and when had it happened? She knew that the two of them together would make a deadly alliance, and she knew they were planning something. And whatever it was, it was big.

Another, higher-pitched scream joined the first one, although it was far shorter, and not long after it had stopped Johanna saw two more figures darting out of the woods, rushing towards the huddle the first screamer. Johanna guessed they were the Careers – so she was right, they had been close. She wondered why they weren’t chasing Maizy – although perhaps they had already killed her.

A cannon rang through the arena, and the huddle thinned, stepping back from the first screamer. One of the Careers dropped to their knees, and Johanna wondered which of them had died – she remembered that the boy from One had died, so the dead one, the first screamer, had to be either the boy from Two or the boy from Four. And she assumed that whoever was crying was the dead boy’s district partner. So Maizy wasn’t dead, after all.

There was a loud crashing beneath the tree, and Johanna peeked down through the branches. Sure enough, there was Maizy, stumbling along. Something was wrong, Johanna could tell. And with a lurch of her stomach, Johanna noticed that Maizy was missing half of her right arm, gone from the elbow down. So it was her the scream had belonged to. Johanna wondered who had taken it.

Johanna watched Maizy disappear, and slowly climbed down the tree. In Maizy’s half-unconscious state, she would be easy to kill, and her death would definitely be better in the long run. She didn’t trust Maizy – she was smart. And she had to go. Sure, Johanna would be breaking her plan, but she knew she would have had to start killing people soon, anyway.

Johanna took her hatchet from the sling, and went the way Maizy had stumbled, following the trail of blood the girl had left behind in the dirt.

It wasn’t hard to find her, slumped against a fallen tree, and Johanna marvelled that she was still conscious. “Hello, Maizy,” she said, and Maizy slowly looked at her, her eyes flickering between Johanna’s face, and the hatchet held tightly in her hand. “Need a hand?” she said, letting out a laugh at her own joke.

“Johanna,” Maizy croaked, clutching the parachute that had obviously dropped before Johanna’s arrival. “Help me. Please.” She had taken off her jacket and wrapped it tightly around her stump, but even that couldn’t stem the steady flow of blood.

Drip, drip, drip it went, and the dirt beneath it turned to metallic mud as Maizy grew paler and paler. “Oh, of _course_ I’ll help you, Maizy.”

The relief that flooded Maizy’s face was amusing – surely she didn’t really believe that Johanna would help her? Didn’t she remember where they were? Had losing an arm caused her to lose all her sense as well?

“Thank you. Can you –“ Maizy held out the parachute with her only remaining hand, obviously struggling to prise it open.

“Sure,” Johanna said, taking the parachute from Maizy’s shaking hands. _Hand,_ Johanna reminded herself. “Why don’t you take a seat, I’ll soon sort you out.” There. Johanna had warned her now, and if she didn’t take this chance, read into Johanna’s words, well, she probably deserved to die, she was so stupid.

Maizy sat down hard in the dirt, breathing heavily, barely stopping herself from toppling backwards. Her hand went to her backpack, and she frantically pawed through it, as if realising she had lost something. A box of darts fell out and spilled in the dirt, and a small bottle of what looked like poison fell to the ground and shattered. Johanna wondered if that was how the Career boy had died – it would certainly be a painful, nevertheless quick, way to go. And who knew what the Capitol poisons could do to a person.

“Oh no,” Maizy said, her chest heaving. “My token –“

“Calm down, Maizy,” Johanna said with a laugh, reaching down and patting the top of Maizy’s head.

Maizy’s eyes flashed with anger at the gesture. “Hurry up,” she hissed.

“We have time,” Johanna said with a small smile. “We have plenty of time.” Slowly, Johanna opened the parachute, and took out a small piece of paper, delicately folded. “Oh, look, someone wrote you a letter.”

“From… Calendula,” Maizy said weakly. Johanna assumed that was Maizy’s mentor, but didn’t recognise the name.

“For stopping blood flow, speeding up the formation of blood clots, and warding off infection. Be safe. Love, Calendula,” Johanna read, letting out a whistle as she showed Maizy the small pink pill that had come with the note. “This must have cost a pretty penny!”

“Hurry up,” Maizy said again, and laid down in the dirt, resting her head against a log.

“I told you, Maizy, we have time. Weren’t you listening?”

“What are you doing?” Maizy tried to sit up, reaching out for the parachute, which Johanna held high over her head.

“You shouldn’t have trusted me, Maizy,” she said, taking a step back, parachute dangling in the air above Maizy’s head.

“That’s mine,” Maizy whispered, realisation growing on her face. She shouldn’t have been so trusting. She should have been as tough and independent she had acted in training. _But we all have our acts,_ thought Johanna. And anyway, dying made people sentimental. But not Johanna.

“Finders keepers,” she said, tucking the pill into her pocket and dropping the note at Maizy’s feet. “Losers weepers.”

Johanna set off into the forest, ignoring Maizy’s weak calls for help. She wouldn’t last long – she was losing consciousness, anyway, and she had bled so much for so long. Johanna doubted she would last the night. Tucking her hatchet back into the sling, Johanna marvelled at how it didn’t necessarily take gore to kill a person. But would she be considered Maizy’s killer? She would be an accomplice, at the very least, although to whom she didn’t know.

Did she feel bad? Sure. Maizy didn’t deserve to die, after all. But she was one step closer to home. And she hadn’t even gotten her hatchet bloody yet.

She would hear Maizy’s cannon soon, she was sure of it. If she didn’t, well, she doubted there would be any circumstance under which Maizy survived her injury. But maybe she would, there was no telling. If she did, Johanna would regret not watching her almost-ally die.

 _Finders keepers,_ Johanna thought, patting her pocket, _losers weepers._

No regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter did not go how I originally planned it to. I actually lost the original document – I had like half of it written, and for some reason it didn’t save. Probably my fault, but I would like to continue claiming that my computer is just an asshole. Which it is.
> 
> I was not expecting this to happen, not at all, I was planning for Maizy to die much later in the Games, although she’s not dead yet. I’ve been working on (and worrying about) this chapter for awhile now, I’ve been very unsure of it. I hope it works okay, I guess I was just worried if it would fit or not. Please let me know what you think and I’ll fix it up if there’s any problems.
> 
> What do you think? Will she pull through, or will she bleed out/die from infection as Johanna had predicted? And which Career boy do you think it was that died – Solomon or Alaric? Oof. I have an awful habit of getting attached to characters who have to die.
> 
> Oh, I also probably should have said: I’m imagining the arena as the Black Forest in Germany, just a lot smaller and with a big lake right in the middle. And a weird tropical patch.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Should I be worried that I enjoyed writing this? Because it’s really fucked up. Maybe I’m fucked up. I’m probably fucked up. I think I was dropped as a child. Okay, I’m going to stop this stream of consciousness now.
> 
> Happy August by the way! Let’s hope it’s not as shitty as the rest of the year has been.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	15. Marin: A Dying Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marin bonds with Vita. The Careers find out exactly why Maizy was sneaking around their campsite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: 42 by Coldplay

**Arena, Lake, Day 5: Marin Callahan**

“I’m going to go hunting. For people, not dinner, in case you were wondering,” Vita announced early in the morning, right when the sun had started to rise. “Is anyone coming with me?”

Marin surprised everyone - including herself – by bounding to her feet without a second thought. “I’ll come. I feel like a sitting duck.”

“Alright. Well, we’ll be back. Four, One, you should go in the other direction, we need to kill someone today. It’s been so boring, and you know what happens when it gets boring.”

“Okay,” Solomon agreed, and Topaz got to her feet.

“Alaric, you guard the supplies.”

The hulking boy grunted his agreement, putting up no fight, which wasn’t surprising – he was vicious, but he was smart. Marin doubted that he would cause drama over a silly little thing like that – she got the feeling that he was biding his time, waiting like a lion stalking its prey. It was possible, however, that she had the wrong impression of him – after all, she had at first gotten the impression that Vita was a heartless, obnoxious enemy. But over the past few days, Vita had proved herself a fair leader of the Career pack, listening to all suggestions and giving Topaz the time and space to grieve over Lapis’ death. Not to mention the empathy she had surprised Marin with after the interviews.

But Marin was still pretty sure that she had judged Alaric accurately. He had, so far, lived up to the first impression she’d had of him – a cold, calculating, ruthless killer. He had been the one who found and killed the girl from Twelve, that first night. She had had a slow and painful death, thanks to him, and though it had earned them all a luxurious dinner, Marin couldn’t bring herself to thank him.

“Why’d you come with?” Vita asked, after the others were out of earshot.

“Like I said, I feel on edge just sitting around all day,” Marin replied, conveniently leaving out the fact that she wanted to escape from Alaric’s unsettling aura. “We can’t let them get bored; we have to keep them on our side.”

“Good reason. Me, I can’t stand being around your ass of a district partner for one more second.”

Marin laughed. Solomon had that way about him – he managed to annoy even the calmest of people, however unintentionally. She had known him for so long that she knew how to process him, but she could understand Vita’s reasoning. “He is all right, once you get to know him, but I guess that’s not exactly what the arena’s for.”

“You were friends back home, weren’t you?” Vita asked, holding a branch back for Marin before letting it slap against a tree.

“Yeah,” Marin nodded, her eyes downcast. She didn’t want to think of the certainty of Solomon’s death – and it was certain, if she wanted to go home to her daughter. Maybe she would even be the one to kill him. She hoped not. “He’s my best friend, actually.”

Vita whistled. “That’s rough. Alaric and I are cousins, but we’ve never really got along.”

“Why did you both volunteer?”

Vita sighed, and kicked a rock out of her path. “There’s a lot of rivalry in our family. And, let’s just say, my Dad and Uncle aren’t the best of friends.”

“Oh.”

“So how’d you end up in here?” Vita said after a while.

Marin let out a sigh. “A girl I trained with – Leilani – was supposed to volunteer, but she didn’t. And things have been rough since my parents died, so I took a lot of tesserae to support Del and Minnow and me. I guess I took one month’s too much.”

“How old’s your kid?”

“She’s fifteen months. I hope-” Marin sighed again. “I don’t want her to grow up without a mom. My parents died a couple of years ago, and I don’t want Minnow to have to go through that. And her father’s a scumbag, so she’ll grow up without a dad regardless of whether I make it out of here or not.”

She clenched her fists at the thought of Morgan’s abandonment – she had thought, at the time, that their relationship meant more to him than just sex. But apparently he hadn’t had the same idea, because the moment he found out that she was expecting, he took off, ignoring all her attempts to contact him and pretending that she had never existed. He hadn’t offered a single penny when Minnow was born – he didn’t even want to meet her. Marin knew that she was better off without him, but his cruel indifference had still hurt.

Vita was silent, and for a moment, they just walked. Marin was surprised at how comfortable she felt in Vita’s presence – only a couple of days ago, Marin had been crying over Vita’s threats, and now they were making pleasant conversation while they hunted people down.

“My mom died when I was a kid,” Vita said finally, breaking the pause in the conversation.

“Oh,” Marin said, not entirely sure why Vita was telling her this. “How did she die, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s fine. Quarry accident,” she said with a shrug. “I have my dad, and my brothers, but I always wanted my mom.”

“I’m sorry, Vita, that –“ Marin started to say, but was cut off with her ally’s scoff.

“Spare me. It’s shit, but I can’t do anything about it but suck it up and carry on,” Vita said. “I didn’t tell you that for you to pity me.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“Oh, fuck off with the sorrys, will you,” Vita said, but her tone was light, a smile playing on her lips.

Marin smiled – and that was when she heard the twig snap. Slowly, she raised a trembling finger to her lips. “Sh.”

Vita nodded, and Marin looked around them. A stream of leaves fell daintily from a tree, and Marin pointed to it. “Vita, there’s someone in that tree.”

Vita grinned, her teeth gleaming. “Finally.”

They walked over to the tree, Vita slinging an arrow into her longbow, Marin holding a shining dagger in each hand.

“Good morning,” Vita called up the tree.

The boy had climbed the tree at an impressive speed, but they must have caught him off-guard. The tree he had selected wasn’t the best one to hide in, as the foliage was patchy, the branches few and far between. He was climbing it as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t quick enough.

“Goodnight,” Marin said quietly.

It only took one arrow for Vita to bring him out of the tree – it flew through his neck, and he came thundering down with the sickening crunch of bones as he landed. He let out a pained groan before growing still, the cannon soon following his last breath. It had happened that quick, and they didn’t even know his name.

Marin knelt beside him, realising who he was – the boy from Seven. With her sleeve she wiped away the blood that had dribbled from the corner of his mouth and closed his eyes in what she hoped was a silent apology.

Somewhere out there, his loved ones were cursing her name, wishing for her death – if she hadn’t ratted him out, he would still be alive. But she couldn’t allow herself to get too upset. _Just another obstacle,_ she reminded herself, forcing her eyes from his still, silent face. She was finding that telling herself that her opponents were just obstacles. Because no matter how many times she said it, she still couldn’t force the girls from Three and Six from her mind – and she had the feeling that the boy from Seven would join them, sentencing her to a lifetime of guilt.

Taking a shaky step back, she tugged on Vita’s sleeve. “Can you roll him over? He might have something useful in his bag.”

“Yeah,” Vita said, and yanked the arrow out of his neck before rolling the boy onto his stomach.

Marin quickly tugged his backpack off his shoulders – it was incredibly light, with only a coil of rope, a couple of protein bars, and a rattling box of matches. He had been hungry in his final days. In his left hand, he was clutching an axe, which Vita took from him far rougher than Marin would have.

“We should head back,” she said. “The others are probably wondering whose cannon that was.”

Vita nodded. “Yeah. Give that here,” she said, and took the backpack from Marin’s hand.

They had walked about five metres when the screaming started, rising above the trees and scaring several birds into flight. “Alaric,” Vita whispered, and took off running back in the direction of their camp. The backpack fell from her grip, and she left it in the dirt without a second thought. Marin ran after her, and together they tore through the trees as they made their way back to camp, following the screams that Marin wished would stop.

Alaric was thrashing on the ground, his mouth foaming, his eyes rolled back into his skull. “Alaric!” Vita yelled.

The girl from Nine thundered into the woods, her face paling when she realised that she had run straight into two of the people she was trying to avoid. “Shit,” she said under her breath, and tried doubling back the way she had come from, but they all knew that it was too late for her.

Vita grabbed her by the front of her shirt and slammed her into a tree. “Did you do this?” she demanded, gesturing to her cousin lying a couple of metres away.

“I- I-“ The girl stuttered, squirming, her face a confession of guilt. She stamped down hard on Vita’s foot in an attempt to good away, and Vita slammed her again against the tree.

Vita grabbed the girl’s right arm, holding it tightly above her head onto the bark of the tree. She gripped the axe firmly in her hand, raising it into the air.

“What are you –“ Marin started to say. She didn’t have time to finish her sentence before the sword swung through the air, and through Nine’s arm, one clean cut sending her hand and part of her elbow to the ground with a thump Marin wished she had never heard.

It was scary how quickly the blood drained from Nine’s face. Within seconds, her already pale skin turned the colour of paper, and a shocked scream tore its way out of her mouth.

“I hope you suffer,” Vita snarled, before pushing the girl down into the dirt and running in the direction of her cousin.

The whole ordeal had happened in under the span of a minute, but Marin couldn’t say that she was completely shocked. If there was anything she had learnt since the Reaping, it was how quickly things could change.

Nine looked at Marin with wide green eyes before scrambling away, nearly falling over in her panic, obviously dizzy from the blood-and-limb loss. Marin recognised her as one of the tributes from the Cornucopia alliance.

A doll had fallen out of Nine’s pockets as she fled, a small, ragged thing that reminded Marin of Minnow’s doll. Their elderly neighbour, Mrs Kishi, had made it when Marin was pregnant, bringing a doll to life from leftover scraps of material and rope.

Snatching up the doll and tucking it into her pocket with the photograph of Minnow, Marin hurried after Vita, who was kneeling by Alaric’s side. Topaz and Solomon mustn’t have gotten very far into the woods after she and Vita had left, because they were already with Alaric when she got there.

“Stop your whining and get up, Alaric, get the fuck up,” Vita said, shaking the boy, which probably wasn’t a good idea, but Marin knew that there was nothing they could do to save him anyway. His screams had stopped, thankfully, but they had been replaced by horrible rasping noises. His eyes were still rolled into the back of his head, and Marin knew that he was already gone, even if his cannon hadn’t yet sounded.

It boomed a moment later. “It’s just Nine’s,” Vita said to the group with utter confidence. 

“No, Vita, it’s-“ Solomon started to say, before falling silent and shaking his head.

“Stop being a pussy, Alaric. Get up! Fucking get up!”

“Vita,” Marin said gently, and hesitantly put a hand on Vita’s shoulder. “Vita.”

“What?” Vita said, whirling around. She looked like a child, crouched there in the dirt, desperately trying to shake her dead cousin awake. Her eyes were wide and shocked and helpless, and her chin was trembling slightly. It was a far cry from the way she had first seemed to Marin – invincible.

“Come on,” Marin said, extending a hand to the girl who looked so small.

Vita thankfully put up no fight, and allowed Marin to lead her away from Alaric’s body before shrugging her arm away. “We have to clear out,” she told the remaining Careers stiffly, looking straight ahead. “Let the hovercraft get the body.”

“Wait,” Solomon said, and knelt next to Alaric. “We should figure out what killed him. Know your enemy, and all that.”

Marin wondered why he had said that – the girl from Nine was as good as dead – before remembering that she hadn’t filled Solomon and Topaz in on what had happened in the forest. It wasn’t the right time, though, with Vita still reeling from Alaric’s death.

After a second of searching, Solomon triumphantly yanked a dart out of Alaric’s arm. “It must have been poisoned or something.”

“I can’t believe Nine killed Alaric, of all people. I bet a couple of bets have been lost in the Capitol already,” Topaz said, shaking her head. “Nine. Did you-“ she said, looking at Marin and Vita.

“She’ll be dead by nightfall,” Vita said, and Marin’s stomach lurched when she remembered the sound of Nine’s arm hitting the dirt, and the waterfall of blood that had followed it.

0o0o

“I wonder why she came here,” Topaz said thoughtfully as they made their way back to camp.

Solomon shrugged. “Probably stealing stuff.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Marin said, shaking her head. “She had hardly anything on her when we saw her in the woods. I mean, she had supplies, but she was one of the Cornucopia alliance so that’s not surprising.”

Topaz nodded. “Yeah, I doubt she would risk coming here to steal supplies. She seemed pretty smart in training. And coming here isn’t very smart, especially with the risk of us being here.”

Marin realised that Nine must have been watching them, and waiting for her time – probably accompanied by Cassian, they had seemed like buddies in training. Marin hoped that he was far from them – for his sake and theirs.

“Do you think she set traps, maybe?” Solomon asked.

“It’s possible. We should search,” Marin said.

Maybe they were being paranoid, but it didn’t hurt to be careful, and since they hadn’t found a reason for Nine to be at their camp, Marin knew it was the best thing for them to do. She hoped that all Nine had done was steal supplies – there was no telling what kind of traps she could have set, especially since she was in an alliance with Cassian, who was far too smart for Marin’s liking.

They carefully picked apart the camp. Vita stood guard, saying she didn’t want them to get snuck up on, but Marin could tell that she just wanted a moment to process her cousin’s death. She had said that they weren’t close, but Marin didn’t think that would make his death any easier for Vita to come to terms with. She wondered what it would be like, to be part of such a competitive family, one that actively pushed its children to volunteer for a death match. Her parents had always wanted Marin and Del to train, but that was a just-in-case kind of decision – they hadn’t been happy when Marin had wanted to volunteer, all those years ago. Before everything had changed.

“I don’t think there’s anything here,” Topaz said after a while, her face shining with sweat.

Marin shrugged. “I guess she was just stealing – do you guys want to check the supplies?”

“Sure,” Solomon said. Marin had the nasty feeling that Nine hadn’t stolen anything, but they hadn’t found anything suspicious in their campsite, so what else could they do but carry on?

Marin made her way over to Vita. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Vita snapped, crossing her arms and turning away.

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it,” Marin said, and started to walk away.

“Wait. Sorry,” Vita said, grabbing Marin’s wrist.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“That’s fine.”

“He was psychotic, but he was family,” Vita said. "You know?"

Marin sighed, trailing her toes through the dirt. “I know.”

**Arena, Lake, Day 6**

Nine’s cannon had gone off, not yesterday evening as Vita had predicted, but early that morning. Marin wasn’t surprised – she doubted anyone could survive such a wound without immediate treatment. Losing a limb in the arena was almost always a death sentence, and what a horrible death it must have been, slowly bleeding out, too shaky and helpless from blood loss to consider an alternative.

Vita had been sulking around the camp all day, eventually leaving to collect firewood even though they already had stacks of it. She obviously didn’t know how to handle her cousin’s death, even though she hadn’t liked him all that much. Marin could somewhat relate – she had lost her parents at the age of fifteen and had wept for days. Vita was obviously processing differently, but Marin knew that everyone coped in different ways.

When their parents died, Del had thrown herself into her work, taking on new shifts at the fish-oil factory and fixing things in the house that didn’t need fixing. Marin, on the other hand, had barely managed to get herself out of bed each morning, let alone do anything productive. Sometimes she hadn’t left the house for weeks. She never wanted to feel that way again – the utter hopelessness, dragging her down, taking her breath away so quickly that it sometimes hurt to breathe.

“I think I’m going to go hunting in a bit,” Solomon said after a while.

He had been teaching Topaz all his tricks for throwing spears. They had gotten to be quite good friends, Solomon and Topaz, and Marin was glad. Topaz had worried her a lot after Lapis had died, hardly saying a word for the first three days. Solomon’s presence seemed to calm her down a bit – perhaps his easy-going nature reminded Topaz of Lapis.

 _I’m the only Career girl who still has her district partner,_ Marin realised. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not – of course it was good that she still had Solomon, but surely Topaz and Vita would be treating them with caution. They had made it obvious how loyal they were to each other, and Marin hoped that her friendship with Vita and Solomon’s friendship with Topaz would balance things out a bit.

“Is Vita getting back soon, do you think?” Solomon, craning his neck as if trying to see through the trees.

Marin shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably. Why?”

“I think we should stay in pairs for now,” Solomon said. “Two out, two here. We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

“Good idea,” Marin said. “We’ll tell Vita when she gets back.”

“Okay. I’m going for a swim,” Solomon said, peeling off his shirt and kicking off his shoes and pants. Topaz wolf-whistled, and Solomon laughed. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“I’d take one if I had a camera, Solomon, and you’d better believe it,” Topaz laughed.

“Want to spar?” Marin asked, after Solomon had made his way to the lakeside.

Topaz nodded and gave Marin a smile. “Yes, please, I’m so unbelievably bored.”

No sooner had they gotten to their feet did the wave of dread wash over her – there had been a single splash after Solomon leapt into the water, followed by silence. In Marin’s book, silence was rarely a good thing, especially in the arena.

“Sol?” she called, walking over to the lake. Topaz followed. “Oh, my god. Sol!” she shrieked.

Solomon’s mouth was open in a silent scream, his eyes bugging out of his head, his limbs snapped still to his sides. He was sinking into the water, slowly, slowly, slowly sinking, and Marin felt herself sinking with him.

“Solomon! Sol!” Marin yelled, kicking off her shoes and rushing to the water. “I’m coming!”

“Marin, stop!” Topaz shouted, grabbing Marin’s arm and yanking her backwards. Marin fell hard into the dirt.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, jumping to her feet and pushing away Topaz’s arm. “Get off me!” she had to get to Solomon, she had to – why was Topaz stopping her? Her best friend was drowning, paralyzed, and Marin had to save him. She couldn’t let Solomon die, not Sol, who had been her friend through thick and thin, not Sol, who was as good as her brother. Solomon didn’t deserve to die.

“Something’s wrong with the water,” Topaz said, tightening her grip on Marin’s arms. “I don’t know what, but something’s wrong.”

Marin didn’t care. “Let me go, let me go!”

“If you get in there, you’ll go the same way he’s going.”

Marin wrenched her ally’s hands from her arms, but the girl from One was quick, and grabbed her again before she could take off after Solomon. “Topaz, let me go, I have to get to him!”

“You can’t!” Topaz said desperately. “Marin, stop this!”

“No!” Marin shrieked, scratching at Topaz’s strong arms, but she just wouldn’t let go. Marin felt like an animal, clawing at Topaz’s arms, screaming her throat raw and fighting with all her might. “Get off me, let me go, get the hell off me!”

Solomon’s cannon echoed over the water, sending a cloud of birds into a panicked flight, and making Marin go limp. Her legs felt like jelly, and it was lucky that Topaz was holding her up, because she knew that if she tried to walk, they would collapse under her weight like a dying star.

“I’m sorry, Marin,” Topaz said softly, and half-carried Marin over to the campfire, helping her lean her back against a log.

“My best friend,” she said, searching Topaz’s face for understanding. She found it, in those big dark eyes, full of sympathy.

“I know he was,” Topaz said, smoothing Marin’s hair back from her face.

Marin looked away, as the hovercraft picked up the body of her friend. Maybe if she didn’t see it happen, she could pretend that it _hadn’t_ happened – it was easy to imagine that Solomon was just off for a walk, hunting with Vita maybe. Or perhaps he had gone for a nap in his tent.

She knew that she would have to accept his death at some point. But for now, she was content to believe that it hadn’t happened – for now, she was content to sit with her head on Topaz’s shoulder, watching the forest as the leaves rustled with the wind, waiting for Vita to return and the hovercraft to leave with Solomon.

When Vita returned, Marin stared at her wordlessly while Topaz explained what had happened to Solomon, before returning to Marin’s side, slinging an arm around her ally’s shoulder. As Topaz whispered words of comfort, Vita combed through the reeds, finding and smashing to pieces a suspicious-looking device that had been partially buried in the clay. She and Topaz came to the conclusion that the lake had been electrocuted, and it made sense – Nine had been working with Five, at least at the start, and District Five supplied Panem with electricity.

With Solomon gone, the drowning feeling swept over Marin in cruel waves. With Solomon gone, Marin could no longer pretend that the arena was just another drill they went through at the Academy – she could no longer pretend that at the end of the day, she would be able to go home to her Minnow. It was real, now. They were in the final eight, and sooner or later everything would either come crashing to an end or stretch out into a cruel infinity.

She now had proof that this wasn’t all a cruel, horrible nightmare, because she always woke up from her dreams eventually. But she hadn’t escaped from this one yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then there were three.
> 
> :(
> 
> I can’t believe I just killed Solomon. Oh my god. Also Alaric but I’m not as sad about him to be completely honest with you. Oof.
> 
> I was originally planning to have Vita die instead of Sol, but I have some ideas for her and I think she is very determined to last a bit longer because she completely took over this chapter. It was very rude of her. I hope you liked hearing from Marin again, I’ve missed her. I really enjoy writing the dynamics of a Career pack, maybe after Crocodile Tears is finished I’ll write the story of one of the Career Victors! That would be fun.
> 
> By the way, if I was to write a spin-off about Marin, what kind of things would you like to see? I’ve been struggling to come up with ideas so it would be helpful to hear what you think.
> 
> Hopefully this chapter cleared things up a bit with what happened with Maizy, if you want more explanation let me know. Cassian is going to make an appearance at some point which should further straighten things out, but don’t expect him for a while.
> 
> Sorry this chapter took so long, by the way. I’ve been very swamped with schoolwork and have just generally been feeling pretty crappy and overwhelmed. I didn’t even start this chapter until a couple of days ago.
> 
> Fun fact: ‘Vita’ means ‘life’ in Latin, which is why I gave her the name.
> 
> I hope you’re all well in these trying times! Have a fantabulous day/night.
> 
> -Audrey :)


	16. Cassian: Pants on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian is a sneaky little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: You’re a Liar by Alex Baudo

**Arena, Stream, Day 6: Cassian Nicks**

Cassian Judas Nicks was a liar.

He couldn’t help it. It started at home – he had always been smart. He was usually the smartest person in the room at any given time. School was useless to him, and when his mother forced him to go he went only to keep her off his back – his teachers couldn’t care less whether he showed up or not, they had taught him all that they could.

When he signed up for a shift at the factory, he hadn’t been expecting fun. But it had been interesting – more than he expected it to be, at least. It was better than school by a long shot, because there was always something for him to do, always something that had to be done, and no time for him to sit around and twiddle his thumbs.

But still, he lied. He told people that his father was a Peacekeeper who had been killed in action, a hero, rather than a drunkard who had abandoned his young family to a life in the slums. He told people that his family was from the good side of town – and they believed him, despite his too-small clothes and his unkempt appearance. He told people that he had gotten into an exclusive engineering program in District 3, and they accepted it, no questions asked.

He told his mother that he went to school every day, when in reality he was running amok through the district, stealing bits and bobs wherever he could, making them seem like something new and selling them at the black market for twice the price.

He lied to his sisters, Sadie and Sarah, when he told them that none of them would ever be reaped.

He lied to Maizy when he told her she would be alright, when he told her that he would save her before the Careers found her. He lied to her when he knew that he was sending her on a death mission.

And he didn’t care one bit.

Well, he cared a little bit.

But not too much.

He knew how to put together a generator by the age of seven. He could do it in his sleep. He showed Maizy that it was all set up, that her job was far easier than his – all she needed to do was sneak to the lake, dump the generator, and sneak back before the Careers found her. It was ridiculously easy, he told her, it’ll be fine, he told her. You’ll be back before you know it, he had said.

But he had lied. Oh, the lies he had told.

“It’ll be okay, Maizy,” he had told her with a smile, handing her the backpack and patting her on the shoulder. “Go do your part, and I’ll do mine – I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure it’ll be okay?” she asked him again.

“Maizy, I promise it’ll be okay. You’re quiet, and the reeds around the lake will hide you – the Careers won’t be guarding the lake, why would they bother? Whoever’s on guard will be facing the forest, or the mountains. And they’ll go hunting today anyway – they have to. I bet you that Natania’s the one who killed Angus – they haven’t killed anyone since day one.”

“Why can’t you do it?” she had asked him suspiciously. It hadn’t taken much to convince her – all he had to do was kiss her forehead, lace his fingers through hers, and she all but melted.

“Trust me, Maizy,” he had said sincerely. “Your talents are much more important than mine – your speed is amazing, and so are your reflexes. If I do this, I’ll have no chance at all of surviving. But you, Maizy, are amazing. You can do this, I know it.”

“You’ll distract them, won’t you? Keep them away?” she had asked anxiously, staring into his face for any sign of confidence.

“Maizy, of course I will! You heard them talking – they need to go hunting for people today, or the audience will be bored. You know that Careers will do anything to keep the audience on their side,” he had said reassuringly, and he could tell she was thinking of what they had heard the night before. They had spied on the Careers from the edge of the forest – risky, yes, but worthwhile, as they knew the set-up of the camp and had learned their habits.

Maizy nodded. “I know. How do we know that they’ll all leave the camp, though?”

“We don’t. We can only hope,” he had said seriously, knowing that there was no chance the Careers would leave their supplies unattended. “However, I think it’s likely – they’re the Careers, they hunt in packs, they don’t have the balls to sneak off on their own, or even in pairs.”

“Yeah. Well. As long as you promise to keep them away from me, I’ll do it,” she had told him with aa sigh.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he had said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and biting back a laugh.

She smiled. “I know.”

He marvelled at how easy it had been to get her on his side – he wasn’t even that good-looking. But apparently all it took was a bit of charm – and Cassian had always been good at that. Charming people came as naturally to him as breathing. Maizy had been wandering the forest helplessly, had apparently been looking for him – it had taken no time at all to get her to trust him, even though she knew how cunning he was from training. She was worried about Johanna from Seven, and yet he was the one she should have been concerned about. Johanna was clever, but he had seen straight through her – her little performance was so obviously fake, Cassian had no idea how she had managed to fool everybody. He, on the other hand – nobody had managed to figure out what he was up to.

The part-time alliance had been his idea – he had known that there would be a generator at the Cornucopia, there usually was, according to Rosemary, after Beetee Latier’s win. He also knew that he wouldn’t get there without more accomplished fighters – so what had he done? He had convinced Natania, Scythe and Maizy to join Eulalie and himself. He had ensured that his score was far lower than theirs, so that the Careers would be targeting his allies, giving him and Eulalie the chance to escape.

He had been sad when Eulalie died, this was true, but he knew it had been for the best, as she had died quickly and likely painlessly, and had gotten the generator out of harm’s way. Even though Johanna from Seven had found and taken it, he had fetched extra supplies for a reason – trades. In his haste to go after Seven, he had forgotten that he would have to replace his district partner – but he had tracked down Maizy easily enough, reuniting with her on day four and convincing her to help him carry out the plan, knowing and even hoping that it would result in her death.

It was the right decision to make, he knew that. Maizy would have only been a threat to him later on, and he may actually have a chance now that two more of the Careers had died – with Maizy out of the running as well, he knew his odds of winning had soared. He only needed Natania, Scythe and Johanna to take care of each other, as well as the remaining Careers and the boy from Eleven, and he would almost be out of this place. Maybe he would get to see his family again – maybe he could rescue them from the poverty that was slowly suffocating his poor mother.

 _I had no choice,_ he told himself as he watched Maizy’s face in the night sky, shining down at him one more time before her light blinked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Cassian’s kind of a scumbag. Whoopsie daisy. Hopefully this gives even more background to what happened.
> 
> This is the shortest chapter I’ve written so far, and very different to previous chapters I think. I really enjoyed getting into Cassian’s head, I always wanted to write a chapter or two in his POV and I’m glad that I did.
> 
> Poor, poor Maizy :( She deserved better.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	17. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna does some cooking and some wood-carving, and tries not to think about what she did to Maizy.

**Arena, Forest, Day 6: Johanna Mason**

After leaving Maizy to what was no doubt a long, painful death, Johanna had made her way back into the forest, climbed a tree, and cried. It had been the first time in a while she had cried for real – it had been a while since she had cried and meant it. It had probably been nothing to the audience, they had probably, at least in the Capitol, seen it as the peak of comedy, or at least not unusual for Johanna considering the cry baby image she’d previously presented to them. Johanna didn’t think it mattered – she almost definitely didn’t have sponsors anyway, not when comparing her to the other contestants.

After crying herself to exhaustion, she had eaten a handful of trail mix, curled up into a ball and fallen into a deep sleep, waking only when she heard the cannon that was probably, definitely Maizy’s.

Johanna wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about Maizy’s death. She hadn’t directly killed the girl from Nine, after all, but Maizy had died as a result of Johanna’s actions. It was a hard thing to come to terms with – she could have helped Maizy, saved her life even, but instead she had left her to die. What would Eurydice think? She remembered that Da had told her ‘no regrets’ and that was an easy thing to put into theory. But in practice, killing people, whether directly or indirectly, was not something that could be easily forgotten. It took its toll. And Johanna couldn’t help but feel guilty, even if she had made the right choice. She had taken a girl away from her family, and no amount of sugar-coating would change that fact.

 _I did what I had to do,_ thought Johanna, looking down at the small pill resting on her palm. At least she would be able to use it if she was badly injured – of all the things to steal, the pill was definitely a good choice. Even if it meant that someone had died.

She decided to take the risk and light a fire to cook the dough – she was deep in the woods anyway, and the trees would likely thin out the smoke before it could make its way into the sky. On top of that, the Careers were likely still reeling from the death of the boy from 2 – he had no doubt been one of their strongest allies, and she doubted that they would risk losing another by hunting down the fire-lighter. It could be a trap, for all they knew.

Only the three girls and the boy from 4 were still alive from their little alliance. Johanna was starting to get excited – she actually had a chance. Yes, her opponents were strong and smart, but so was she. She had made it this far, after all, without any injuries or any sponsors – all she had to do was last a little longer, and she would be able to get back home to Eurydice, to her family.

Elm had died the day before. She had desperately wanted to know who had died, so she had climbed a tree when the anthem started. She hadn’t been as shocked to see her district partner’s face as she had been when she saw Two’s – Elm was never meant to win. He wasn’t one to kill, even for survival. Once, back at home when they were in the same work group for the forest, he hadn’t even been able to kill the spider that crawled onto his arm from a tree.

She had known from the start that he would have to die, and his death didn’t sting because she cared about him – his death stung because she was alone, now. She was the only thing she had from home, the only one in the arena who knew how the forests sounded as the morning breeze rushed through them, the only one who had seen the true horrors of a forest fire, the only one who had ever walked barefoot in District 7’s dirt. Johanna was the only one left, and that thought terrified her.

Twisting her green beaded bracelet around her wrist, Johanna gritted her teeth and focused on the fire, making a neat little pile of kindling and logs before setting the whole thing alight with a click from the lighter. She had made sure to dig a pit first and clear the area of pine needles, and made a circle of stones around the fire so it couldn’t spread. She knew all too well how flammable pine needles were, how quickly flames could leap out of control.

Settling the cooking pot in the flames, Johanna leaned against the tree, closing her eyes and thinking of home. With her eyes closed, it was easy to imagine that she _was_ home – the forest smelt the same. She could pretend that she was on a picnic with Eurydice, that they had snuck out of their houses or had skipped school, that they were sitting and talking and making out in a part of the forest where the trees were so old they were left alone, trees so large that no lumberjack wanted to take them down.

But the cannon brought her back to reality, echoing through the trees and startling Johanna out of her daydream. It had been from far away, so she wasn’t scared. Checking the bread, Johanna sighed when it wasn’t done – it was starting to smell good, and she was hungry.

The boredom had never gone away, and Johanna decided that she was sick of waiting around and twiddling her thumbs. Getting to her feet, Johanna shouldered her hatchet and made her way over to the leftover pile of logs. Chopping a sizeable piece off one of them, she walked back to the fire and got out her dagger. She often made carvings back home, they fetched a good price at the Acorn. She wasn’t the most talented at it, and her amateur skills would never compare to the more experienced people of her district, but Johanna didn’t care. It was fun and she liked it, so she would do it.

As she waited for the bread to cook, Johanna set about carving a rough bear from the chunk of wood, modelling it on the mutts she had almost lost her life to. She hadn’t been able to get them out of her head, so maybe if she made one from wood, they would leave her alone to her thoughts.

Over the next half hour, as she waited for the bread to cook, a bear slowly emerged from the wood. It was rough, and barely resembled a bear, but at least it was there. She could work on the finer details later.

The bread had risen surprisingly well, although not nearly as much as a proper dough would have. The smell brought her back home, where they often made flour from pine bark, and Johanna’s stomach grumbled loudly. It had done that a lot over the past few days, and she was learning to tune it out.

“Good shit,” she said, pulling a piece of bread from the loaf and popping it into her mouth. It wasn’t the best bread she’d ever eaten, but she was hungry, and it would do. It was better than another meal of trail mix and protein bars, that was for sure. She could almost hear her mother saying, “You’ll turn into a protein bar at the rate you’re going!”

There was rustling from above, and Johanna gripped her hatchet tightly, looking anxiously up into the sky. She hadn’t been expecting a parachute to be floating down – a demented bird or squirrel mutt, maybe, but not a parachute, emerging from the leaves as if it were an angel floating down from heaven. Maybe it was Elm’s leftover sponsor money, or maybe the Capitol was starting to like her – she had survived to the final eight, after all, and that was sure to earn her a sponsor or two. Right?

The parachute contained a large-ish thermos of ginger, lemon and honey tea, steaming hot and fragrant, as well as a coin-sized container each of butter and jam. There was a note, too – _They have forgotten about you. Good work. Stay where you are for now, you will know when it is time. Magnolia._

Johanna wasn’t exactly sure what Magnolia meant – time for what? – but she trusted her mentor. Magnolia knew her stuff, and if she had managed to get Blight, of all people, out of the arena, then that was good enough for Johanna. She was glad that she wouldn’t be a target of the others – she would have time to prepare for the shit show that was no doubt about to come.

She cut a thick slice off the loaf of bread and spread it with butter and jam, which was blackberry. Taking a huge bite, Johanna sighed – it was the first hot food she’d had in almost a week, and she was very much enjoying it. The tea was good, too, and in no time Johanna had drunk the whole thermos. Perhaps it would have been a better idea to save it, but she already had the fire going – she may as well make some pine needle tea. She knew where the stream was, now, too, so she wouldn’t die of dehydration. At least she could cross that option off her ‘list of likely demises’ list.

It wasn’t much, not at all, but despite the events of yesterday, Johanna was happy. She was relatively safe, she had a full stomach, and she was nearly home. There were only seven more steps before she could see her family again.

She knew what was to come. Eventually she would have to grit her teeth, get to her feet and start hunting people down. Eventually she would kill someone for real, with her hatchet or her dagger or maybe even her bare hands. Eventually she would be hunted, herself.

But for now, Johanna was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry, this is kind of short. I tried writing more, but it just wasn’t working out.
> 
> Who do you think should be considered Maizy’s killer? Is it Cassian, who sent her on a death mission? Is it Vita, who chopped off her arm? Is it Johanna, who stole her medicine and left her, knowing that she would die? I’d be interested to hear your thoughts, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	18. Blood and Wildflowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is forced to reveal her fighting skills. Eurydice visits her in a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata

**Arena, Forest, Day 7: Johanna Mason**

Johanna woke up feeling anxious. There was a pit in her stomach not unlike the one she had had by the stream the other day – the awful feeling that something bad was going to happen. Added to the uncertainty and paranoia that came with being in the arena, and it was not a fun way to feel at all.

She didn’t know what she was anxious about, but she knew that something would happen today – whether it was to happen to herself, or somebody else, she couldn’t say – but something would happen, and it would happen soon.

After a breakfast of bread and pine needle tea, Johanna decided to walk to the stream to fill up her water bottle and thermos. She was running low on water, and it wouldn’t hurt her to stretch her legs – if she didn’t get up and do something, she would be left to stew all day, and she was beginning to hate her own company. Not that she wanted anyone else’s, not in the arena at least, but still. A change of scenery would help her escape the wrath of her imagination.

It was a beautiful day, and even in the shade of the forest it was warm. If she were back home, she and Eurydice would have definitely skipped school or work and gone down to the river for the day.

Johanna couldn’t remember what day it was. Thursday? It felt like a Thursday. _We must be at least six or seven days in,_ she thought, cursing herself for not keeping count. Although it didn’t really matter. Time didn’t exist in the arena.

In the damp soil of the riverbank, a miniature forest of watercress was growing. Johanna recognized the little green leaves from raining, and harvested as much of it as she could, putting the small plants into her empty cooking pot with the rest of yesterday’s bread, snacking as she went. It didn’t taste wonderful, but they were the first fresh greens she had had since arriving in the arena, and the nutrients would do her good.

Filling up her water bottle and thermos, Johanna looked around. It was quiet, and the water rushed slower and quieter here than it did closer to the lake. She decided a small bathe was worth the risk – she stunk to high heaven, and she remembered one of the trainers telling her it was important to stay clean, because it was easier to keep warm. She didn’t know whether that was true or not, but the trainer definitely knew more than she did, and the nights had been getting colder and colder as time went on.

Peeling off her outer clothing and gloves, Johanna waded into the water, tucking her dagger into the waistline of her panties in case there was a surprise attack. She wouldn’t put it past the Gamemakers to set the bears on her again – they had done it when she was shitting, so why not when she was half-naked? Some perv in the Capitol would probably love to see that, although they probably all would since the whole lot of them were nothing but wretched perverts.

The water was freezing, but it woke her up, and she felt immensely better having washed the dirt ad sweat from her skin. She had forgotten what a good bath could do, and when she climbed out of the stream, Johanna felt fresh and ready. For what, she didn’t know, but she was still feeling extremely anxious so she was ready to deal with the anxiety, at the very least.

She ran her hands down her arms and legs to brush off the excess water before pulling her clothes back on. She didn’t want to wait around any longer to dry – she had been on the ground and vulnerable for long enough, and still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she’d woken up with.

 _Why do I feel like this?_ She wondered, making her way back into the thick forest. Perhaps the post-traumatic stress was setting in early. But that didn’t make sense, it was called _post_ -traumatic stress after all. No, something told her that it wasn’t trauma – and the low growl behind her told her that she was correct.

Dropping her supplies where she stood, Johanna yanked her hatchet from its sling, clasping the hilt of the dagger between her teeth. She would run first, and go back for the rest of her supplies later – they had thankfully landed in a bush, so they were at least somewhat concealed in case another tribute was to come wandering by. Johanna took off, not taking the time to wait around and see what had growled. There would be time to figure that out later, although she already had a pretty good idea of what it could be. She had heard that growl before.

Grabbing onto a branch, Johanna pulled herself up, quickly scaling the tree and peering through the branches. She couldn’t see anything, and the forest had gone eerily quiet – she couldn’t hear the birds anymore, or even the stream, though it was only ten metres away. She could hear her heart beating quicker and quicker in her chest, could hear the blood thumping in her ears – but where had the growl come from?

Her question was answered as the black bear ran at the tree. Johanna automatically reached for the can of bear spray, glad that she had remembered about it early this time. Maybe if she was lucky, the bear would careen off to the lake and tear the Careers to shreds.

Johanna realised too late that the bear spray was still in Eulalie’s satchel. Which she had thrown into a bush. Which was currently located _behind_ the creature she needed it for.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit,” she whispered to herself, her stomach swooping with dread, and scrambled up the tree as far as she could, clinging to the thick trunk and hoping she had gotten away before the bear had seen her. She knew that she hadn’t, of course – it was there for a reason – to kill her. Or fight her, at least. _I really fucked up this time._

The bear was thankfully alone, but it made no difference. It leapt at the tree, using its claws to pull itself up. Taking the dagger from her teeth, she threw it at the bear, aiming for the eyes – it missed the eyes, but sunk deep into the bear’s front right paw. Letting out a howl, the bear crashed to the ground, before getting back to its feet and running at the trunk full force.

Johanna recalled the first group of bears doing just that – the had been trying to either knock the tree down, or knock her out of it. She had had the bear spray that time, but last time there had been, how many, five bears? This time, there was only one. She could fight one bear – surely she could manage to do that. Why would the Gamemakers have sent only one bear, if they didn’t want her to fight it?

She didn’t have much choice, in any case. The bear was very determined, and it was running at the tree with unnatural speed and force. If it wanted to knock the tree down, it would succeed, and Johanna desperately wrapped her arms and legs around the trunk as the tree creaked and cracked ominously. “Get the fuck away!” she screamed down at it, not really believing her words would do anything but not knowing what else to do.

The bear growled again, and Johanna knew that if she lived to see life out of the arena, that sound would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. The tree cracked again, and started to sway – Johanna let out a panicked screech as the bear came running again.

This time, the tree started to fall. Johanna’s stomach dropped, and she watched the quickly approaching ground with despair. She had to climb down, and fast – she would rather take her chances with the bear than with the falling tree, which would crush her if she didn’t move.

The tree didn’t fall completely to the ground, instead slamming into two other trees, which broke the fall. It wouldn’t hold for long, but she was from District 7 – she didn’t need long. Johanna took the chance to make her way down the trunk, which was now almost parallel to the ground.

“Slowly,” she said to herself, inching bit by bit down the trunk, feeling the tree slipping slowly. It was risky business, but she needed to be faster – the bear was making its way over, she could hear the thumps of its heavy feet, the snorts from its curious nose. In her panic, her foot slipped, and she began to slide down the trunk, feeling the skin on her fingertips shred as she desperately scrabbled for a grip. Finding it, she held on for dear life, waiting a second before continuing the climb and pondering over what her next move should be.

There were bears in the forests of District 7. She had never encountered one herself, but every lumberjack knew the rules. _If it’s brown, lay down. If it’s black, fight back._ She didn’t know whether or not these rules applied to the Capitol’s mutts – probably not – but what else could she do? This bear was black, and the Gamemakers obviously wanted her to fight back.

Holding her hatchet tightly, Johanna jumped the remaining three meters to the ground, landing hard on her ankle despite her attempts at a smooth landing. She quickly limped away from the tree, and not a moment too soon; it thundered to the ground with a crash so loud it left her ears ringing. Johanna started to scream, raising her hands above her head and shaking them around – black bears were usually timid creatures, she remembered. They were easy to scare. Of course, this black bear was a mutt, but even the mutts couldn’t ignore the rules of nature.

The bear was huge, and it was angry, and it was running straight towards her. It was a risky move, but Johanna stayed where she was. She let the bear get so close she could feel its hot, rancid breath on her face as it approached. Jumping out of the way at the last moment, Johanna grinned when the bear crashed head-first into the fallen tree, seemingly getting its head stuck in some branches.

There was no point in running now, she knew that. The bear could – and would – simply knock down any trees Johanna chose to climb, and she didn’t have the bear spray to protect her this time. It would easily outrun her when it freed itself – and she knew that it would. She had to fight. She knew that was why the bear was here in the first place – the Gamemakers wanted her to fight. They wanted her to show the audience what she could do.

The bear had its back turned, but it was never going to be a fair fight in the first place. Johanna, for one, didn’t come equipped with razor-sharp claws and fangs the size of a small child. She swung her hatchet into its lower back and it howled, struggling to get free. She yanked the hatchet out of its back and was preparing for another swing when the bear freed itself, whirling around.

“Fuck!” she yelled, and jumped backwards just in time, turning her head to the side instinctively. It was a good decision.

The bear’s claws came so close to her neck that Johanna felt the air brush past her throat, as light as a butterfly’s wing and as deadly as, well, a bear’s claw. It missed her throat by millimetres, but sliced open her left cheek instead. Warm blood gushed into her mouth and down her face as she realised, with horror, that the bear had sliced through the flesh of her cheek and into her mouth. It didn’t hurt yet, but she knew that it would hurt like a bitch once the adrenaline wore off. If it ever had the chance to wear off, that is – she had no idea if she’d manage to kill the bear or not.

But she had to try. Spitting blood from her mouth, Johanna leapt out of the way again as the bear swung again, rolling under its legs and sinking her axe into its stomach, her back on the ground.

A waterfall of blood drenched her, and Johanna wondered what the point of her bath earlier had been if she was just going to be covered in blood not ten minutes afterwards. She yanked her hatchet out of the bear’s gut, and tried to scramble out from under it in case it decided to die on top of her, but she needn’t have worried. The bear was kind enough to grab her by the shoulder, stabbing its claws into her flesh, and drag her out of harm’s way – or, into harm’s way. Johanna didn’t really know which was which, safety was kind of a grey area in the arena. It threw her hard against a tree, and she scrambled to her feet, ducking behind the tree before taking a peek.

The dagger was still stuck in the bear’s paw, which Johanna was pleased about, although it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on the bear at all other than surprising it out of the tree – it was walking on its hind legs, and it seemed to only have made it angrier. It ran around to her side of the tree and she ducked back behind, realising too late that teasing it probably wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever had.

The bear bounded forward with a roar and swiped at her again, and Johanna felt its claws graze her stomach. She yelped in pain, and aimed her hatchet at its head. It was risky – if she missed, she would be left without a weapon. But she was also badly injured, and couldn’t risk getting any closer to the bear – it would take her head off. It had already tried to, and had only been millimetres away from succeeding.

Her hatchet sailed through the air, and Johanna fell backwards, her legs shaky and unable to support her weight. There was a dull thud as it connected with the bear’s head, and an even louder thud as the bear toppled to the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt.

Johanna let out a shaky breath, not quite of relief, and put a hand to her stomach. The claws had sliced through the fabric of her shirt, and her hand came away bloody. Her intestines were thankfully still in the right place, but the cuts were deep, and she was losing blood quickly. Her cheek was an even sorrier story – the bear had slashed straight through it, from the corner of her mouth to halfway up her left cheek, almost to her jaw, and had even made a small cut on the side of her tongue. It was as though she had an elongated smile. She could feel the air whistling through the hole, and felt sick, spitting out another glob of blood and flesh.

She had never been in as much pain before, and knew she would pass out if she didn’t do something about it. At least her ankle didn’t hurt as much now, although that probably had more to do with the fact that she could feel the flesh of her cheek flapping around in the wind like a fish out of the water. Tears of pain gathered in the corners of her eyes, and fell before she could blink them away, carving trails into the drying blood that coated her face. They met the open flesh of her cheek, and she hissed as the salt stung the fresh cut.

Using a sturdy branch as a makeshift walking stick, Johanna slowly made her way over to the still corpse of the bear. Her hatchet was planted firmly into its skull, and its black fur was matted with blood and dirt. Good. If she hadn’t been about to pass out, Johanna would have cut off one of the bear’s legs to cook and eat, but she could barely manage to walk let alone swing her hatchet one more time. She wiped her bloody hands on her pants and gripped the handle of the hatchet as tightly as she could, yanking it from the bear’s head and grimacing when small chunks of brain matter flew with it.

Now that the hatchet was removed from its head, she could see the full extent of the damage she had inflicted – the bear’s snout had split right down the middle, and its skull had seemingly cracked like an egg, the remnants of its brain resembling some sort of yolk. She was impressed with herself – she had managed a solid throw even though she was about to pass out. Silently thanking Magnolia for teaching her how to throw an axe, Johanna tucked her hatchet back into its sling, not bothering to wipe the gore from its blade.

“Disgusting,” she said, and spat a mouthful of blood onto the corpse. It felt strange to talk, and Johanna bit back a borderline-hysterical laugh. Why she was laughing she didn’t know, but she was so light-headed that everything seemed funny.

 _Now you have to find your supplies, Johanna,_ she told herself sternly, fighting off the white spots appearing in her vision. She was vulnerable – she doubted that nobody had heard the fight. The tree had been so loud, when it fell, and she wasn’t _that_ far from the lake. And if the others hadn’t heard a cannon – they were probably headed her way right this moment.

Gingerly leaning on the branch, Johanna slowly made her way over to the bush she’d thrown her supplies. She had gulped down half of her water before remembering why Maizy had died.

Maizy had died because Johanna stole her medicine – the medicine that apparently ‘stopped blood flow to the wounded area, sped up the formation of blood clots, and warded off infection’. Johanna hastily combed through her pockets. There it was, the little pink miracle pill. She popped it into her mouth, taking a swig of water before swallowing. She had forgotten about her cheek wound, however, and half of the water came out through her cut. She had thankfully been able to swallow the pill, however. She wasn’t sure whether she should have sat down first – but there was no time to wait, she had lost so much blood already. She had to get out of the area before someone found her.

Throwing her supplies onto her back, Johanna refilled her water bottle before turning around and heading back into the safest place she knew – the deep woods. It was slow going, and her ankle was starting to hurt pretty badly as well – she must have broken it when she fell from the tree. She hoped that the medicine she had stolen from Maizy covered broken bones, as well, although she would take her chances with a broken foot if it meant she wouldn’t bleed to death. The branch made a good walking stick, though, and Johanna put almost all of her weight onto it as she hobbled along.

She knew that attempting to climb a tree in her current state would be a shitty idea. Thankfully, the forest was also home to a wide variety of shrubbery. After triple-checking a bush to make sure that it wasn’t poisonous or home to a family of rabbits, Johanna climbed underneath it. She pulled the first-aid kit from her backpack, her hands shaking a worrying amount. It was thankfully full of supplies – she hadn’t had to use any of them yet. She quickly dabbed some anti-bacterial ointment on her wounds, and tightly wrapped her stomach with bandages, using the leftovers on her shoulder which wasn’t quite as bad as her other wounds. She couldn’t do much for her cheek other than treat it with the ointment and hope for the best.

It had definitely been her most terrible day in the arena. She had never felt this much pain before – every inch of her body hurt. Even things that hadn’t hurt that much in the moment were starting to ache. Her shredded fingertips. The muscles in her arms and legs. The entire right side of her body that had connected with the tree. Her throat, from the screaming. Everything hurt, but the pain wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that she still had the uneasy feeling she had woken up with. She had thought it had been her intuition warning her about the bear, but now she knew – it was about something worse. And she didn’t think it involved her. She would trade the feeling for all the bear attacks in the world, because at least bear attack stopped, with either a dead person or a dead bear. But the anxiety – she just couldn’t shake it. Something had happened to someone she loved, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to find out the specifics.

Losing consciousness, Johanna fell into the worst sleep she’d ever had in her life. Tossing and turning as Maizy’s medicine slowly knitted her flesh back together, Johanna slept fitfully, dreaming of bears and flashing claws, of angry growls and the cracking of a falling tree. There was screaming, too – horrible, anguished screams. They sounded familiar, and she hoped that the boy – she knew the screams belonged to a boy – wherever and whoever he was, she hoped he would be okay.

Slowly, the dreams faded from nightmarish to peaceful. She dreamed that Eurydice was there with her, stroking her hair back from her face, whispering words of comfort in her ear. _You’ll be okay, Jojo,_ she said. _You won._

 _No I didn’t!_ Johanna tried to tell her, but Eurydice only smiled. _I love you, Jojo,_ she said, and melted into the forest as though she was a dryad, wildflowers blooming where she once stood.

Johanna didn’t believe her. She had won this battle, true. But would she win the war?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how accurate this is. I’ve never fought a bear. If I did, I would definitely die, so I don’t think having experience fighting bears should be necessary when you want to write a bear fight.
> 
> Answer me this, dear readers – why do you think Johanna felt so anxious all day? Was it just the bear, combined with the trauma of the arena, or is something else happening? Who do you think the boy in her nightmare was?
> 
> Oh, by the way – for Johanna’s cheek, I’m imagining the Joker. Just to give you a bit more of a visual.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter, and have a wonderful day/night.
> 
> -Audrey :)


	19. Cypress: I'll Leave You Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cypress loses two people he loves more than life itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OFFICIAL TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE (If you want a summary of the chapter, feel free to contact me via Tumblr – I would be happy to give you the main details. I totally get if you would prefer to skip this chapter. Take care of yourself.)
> 
> Song: Je te laisserai dets mots by Patrick Watson

**District Seven, Victor’s Village – Day 7 of the Games: Cypress Li**

Cypress twisted his watch around and around his wrist, watching as the little clock face spun. The meeting was tonight. He had successfully convinced Mu to lend them the large upstairs room of the pub, and though it had cost him, it was worth it.

He, Myrtle and Eurydice would speak – the three of them were somewhat well known in their district, Cypress especially of course, and the people needed someone who had been directly affected by the Games. They needed someone who knew the horrors of the arena. Cypress, who had been there before. Myrtle, who woke him from his nightmares each night. And Eurydice, who watched her grandmother get sadder each year she failed to save her tributes.

“Stop that,” Myrtle said, tugging on his arm.

“What?” he asked absently, staring at the flickering streetlight.

“You’re doing the watch thing again.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll break it.”

“Oh,” he said again, not really hearing her.

“What are you anxious about?”

“Hm?” he asked, finally realising he was being spoken to.

Myrtle huffed and pretended to be annoyed, but Cypress knew that she wasn’t, not really. It wasn’t in her nature. “I said, what are you anxious about?”

“Oh. Um. The meeting. Also, Eurydice’s late.” Cypress didn’t like it when people were late. He liked routines, and didn’t understand why people couldn’t just follow them.

“She’ll be here soon,” Myrtle said.

“I know,” he said. “But. She’s late.”

“Cy, you need to chill,” Myrtle said, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s going to be okay, and Eurydice isn’t going to bail.”

“What if this was a bad idea?”

Myrtle shook her head. “It isn’t. We’re doing the right thing.”

“Yes, I know that. But is it a bad idea?”

Myrtle sighed. “I don’t know.”

Cypress didn’t say anything.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m sick of waiting. Let’s go get Eurydice,” Myrtle said, breaking the silence, which Cypress was grateful for.

He didn’t like silence, it reminded him too much of being in the arena – bad things would happen if there was silence. Mutts would sneak up behind you, with only the snapping of a twig revealing their presence. By then it would be too late – they would lunge, and you would be caught off guard, unprepared for their attack… Cypress tried not to shudder.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t thank me, just walk,” she said, grabbing his sleeve and leading him away from the house.

He stopped, and held up a hand. “Wait. I don’t think I turned the oven off.”

“You did. I watched you.”

Cypress shook his head. He needed to check – he itched to check. What if they came home to smouldering ruins? What if the fire spread, and set the whole district alight? It would be better if he could just check. “What if I just thought it was off, but it isn’t actually? What if-“

“Cy, it’s off, let’s go,” Myrtle said impatiently.

“I just want to go check. Just once.”

“No, you want to check it a hundred times, not once. And then you’ll check it once more, for good measure. We don’t have the time, Cypress, come on,” Myrtle said firmly.

“Okay,” he said, giving up. His hands were shaking – he shoved them deep into his pockets.

“Eurydice!” she called, knocking on the door. There was the sound of footsteps from behind it, and a click as the lock turned. Eurydice greeted them with a small wave, the dark bags under her bloodshot eyes suggesting she hadn’t slept for the entirety of the Games. Cypress wasn’t surprised – he knew how much she loved Johanna. If he had a girlfriend in the Games, he knew he wouldn’t have slept either. Not that he had ever managed to land himself a girlfriend.

“You ready?” Myrtle asked her, smiling.

“Yes. Sorry. I-“ Eurydice her lip, and dropped her eyes to the floor. “Jo just got attacked by a bear.”

“Oh, shit,” Myrtle gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Is… she’s okay, right?”

“She’s alive. She’s injured, though. Weren’t you watching?” Eurydice asked them curiously.

Cypress shook his head. “No, we were eating dinner.” There was also the fact that Cypress almost never watched the Games, it took him back to his time in the arena, and he couldn’t handle it. He and Myrtle had been switching it on from time to time to keep tabs on Johanna, but there was really no reason for him to watch – he wasn’t a mentor, after all.

“Oh. Well, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Eurydice said, trying to act calm. She wasn’t fooling anybody. “She took the girl from Nine’s medicine.”

“I’m sure that’ll sort her out,” Cypress said soothingly. “Calendula knows her stuff.” He had met Calendula on his Victory tour – she had been lovely, and struck him as very smart. He hadn’t met her since, having never mentored, but Magnolia and the other Victors all held her in high regard.

“Calendula?” Eurydice said quizzically.

“One of Nine’s Victors,” Cypress told her.

“Oh. Right. Okay, let me just put some shoes on,” Eurydice said, stepping out of the doorway. “Come in, come in.”

She turned and ran up the stairs, and Cypress and Myrtle stood awkwardly in the foyer. They’d been in Eurydice’s house before, when they’d first moved into the Victor’s Village. But Sylvia, Eurydice’s mother, wasn’t a big fan of either of them. Cypress wasn’t entirely sure why, but he wasn’t sure he cared to find out.

Eurydice came thundering back down the stairs. “Mama, I’m going out with Cypress and Myrtle.”

Sylvia came out of the living room, a book in her hand. “Eurydice, I’m not sure I want you going out at this hour.” She eyed Cypress and Myrtle distastefully, and Cypress gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Myrtle adopted a grin similar to Cypress’s. “We’ll take good care of her, Ms Babineaux, we just want her to get some fresh air.”

“I suppose fresh air would do her some good, she’s been cooped up in that room of hers ever since the start of the Games. Mind you get her home before it’s dark.”

“Will do, Ms Babineaux,” Myrtle said pleasantly, taking Eurydice’s arm. Both of them knew full well that they would not be back before dark. “You take care, now.”

“Bye, Mama, see you later,” Eurydice said, kissing her mother on the cheek. “Won’t be long, I pinky promise.”

Sylvia didn’t notice that Eurydice had crossed her fingers behind her back.

0o0o

Mu greeted them at the door with a scowl. “You’re a bit early.”

“We just want to make sure everything’s ready. Here’s the rest of your money, by the way,” Cypress said, handing him 50 aurei.

“Ah, about the money,” Mu said, his eyes gleaming. “I’m going to need a bit more than I originally asked for.”

“Of course you do, you wily fox,” Eurydice said, rolling her eyes. “Cypress’ll give you more after the meeting. Won’t you, Cypress?”

“Yes, Mu,” Cypress said, looking at the bartender with what he hoped passed as a scowl. “After the meeting, provided everything goes well.”

“Fine,” Mu said with a glare, waving them inside. “Get inside before you attract the Peacekeepers.”

Cypress didn’t make a habit of going to pubs, but everyone over the age of sixteen had been to Mu’s at least once, even if they didn’t have the money for drinks. It was one of the only places in the District where townsfolk and forest-dwellers alike could converge, a safe space for all. Even if the beer tasted like piss, according to Myrtle, it was worth it for the communal feel of the place. Even Cypress, who wasn’t a fan of crowds or noise or alcohol or even Mu, had to agree with this.

That was why they had picked it for the meeting. Everyone knew Mu’s, and even though many people tended to watch the Games at home, it wasn’t uncommon for the pub to remain open for those who wished to watch somewhere warmer and cleaner that the Town Square, somewhere less lonely than their homes. They had been planning to close the pub for the night, but decided that would be suspicious – at least if it was open, they could sneak those attending the meeting upstairs without attracting suspicion. Most of the people downstairs would be too drunk to notice, anyway.

“Now, you’ll want to go up the stairs, down the hall,” Mu said, directing them to the stairs. “The meeting room is two doors to the right. I’d show you but I need to stay down here.”

“Thanks again, Mu, this is really helpful. People will be coming in through the front as per usual – the meeting-goers will be wearing a leaf in their hair or button-holes. If you could point them in the right direction, that would be very helpful,” Cypress said.

“For 50 more aurei, I suppose I could do that.”

“Deal,” Cypress said, sticking his hand out for Mu to shake. “You’ll get it after the meeting. Come on, girls, let’s go get ready.”

“Is Dom coming?” Eurydice asked.

Myrtle shook her head, and answered for him. “No. Too dangerous.”

“You’re probably right.”

Entering the room, the three of them stopped for a moment, looking around at the place. There were five tables crammed into the relatively small space, with even more chairs clogging the room. They would struggle to fit everyone into the room, but at least everyone would be able to see them.

“We don’t need to do much, do we?” Myrtle asked, looking around.

“With the room?” asked Eurydice.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think so,” Cypress said. “I mean, we’re only talking about our cause, we’re not organising anything yet.”

“What if someone rats us out?” Eurydice asked, chewing on a lock of blonde hair.

“They won’t,” Cypress said with as much confidence he could muster.

Eurydice pushed a chair into a table so they could make their way up to the front of the room, away from the door. “But how do you know?”

Cypress gave her a small smile. “We’re paying them to keep their mouths shut.”

“How much?”

“Twenty denarii per head,” Myrtle said with a grin.

“Mu gets more?” Eurydice asked.

“Damn right he does!” Mu shouted from the hallway.

“Very funny, Mu,” said Cypress, rolling his eyes. “Yes, of course he gets more.”

“But –“

“Eurydice,” Myrtle said, placing a comforting hand on Eurydice’s arm. “It’s all sorted out. Stop worrying.”

“Okay.”

“You’re as bad as Cypress!” Myrtle said, laughing when she caught sight of the scowl on Cypress’s face.

0o0o

The room filled up quickly, and the chairs were all soon occupied. People were forced to cluster around the walls, sit on the floor, and it had been a big effort to get the door closed.

“Settle down, please!” Cypress yelled, and the room bubbled down in volume. “Thank you all for coming.”

“If you received an invitation, you should know that we have trusted you enough to invite you here tonight,” Myrtle said. “We request your secrecy and subtlety.”

“A mole would certainly result in the deaths of everyone in this room.”

“So keep it zipped. Please,” Eurydice added.

“We’re here because we think that things should change,” Cypress said, not quite sure where to begin.

“Change how?” someone in the back asked loudly.

“We want nation-wide changes. We want poverty eradicated. We want harmony between the districts.” Cypress hoped he was sounding inspiring. They had gone over their speech what seemed like hundreds of times, but Cypress found himself improvising a little.

“We want the Capitol to go down,” said Myrtle.

“We want the Games to end,” said Eurydice.

There was immense cheering at that. The three of them grinned at each other – they had been worried that their words wouldn’t elicit a response.

“This won’t happen immediately. We’re an underground group, and things are changing slowly. But they are changing. We want you to help us – things like sabotage. Murders. Smuggling. We can’t change things alone, which is why we’re working with other districts – Three, Four, Six, Eight and Twelve, primarily.” Cypress and Myrtle had decided earlier to leave Thirteen out of the speech – it was still too early to break the news. Eurydice didn’t even know about it yet. “We have been oppressed for too long,” Cypress continued. “We’ve been forced to kill each other for seventy-one years. We have lost children – we have lost innocents. But we won’t forget!”

“We won’t forget!”

“Say their names!” Cypress yelled.

“Elm,” a woman near the front close-to whispered. She looked haggard, her hair limp and her eyes full of tears. Cypress recognised her as Elmer’s mother, the one who had cried so at the Reaping.

“Cody, Chloe, Laurel!”

“Aranyani!”

“Alder!” Cypress looked up – Alder was the name of Tamora’s brother. Surely she wasn’t at the meeting? He searched the room, and found, not Tamora, but a man he recognised as Tamora’s father. He gave Cypress a nod.

“They want us to forget what they’ve done to us. They want us to stay under their thumbs for the rest of them. But we won’t let them! We won’t forget!” Myrtle yelled. Eurydice punched the air.

“We won’t forget!” everyone chorused.

“We need you to remember. We need you to be patient – but stay angry. Stay hopeful,” Cypress told them, looking from Elm’s mother to Tamora – and Alder’s – father. “It’s anger and hope that will get us through this – anger for our past, and hope for our future. “

“Change is coming, and it’s coming soon. We need you to help us,” said Eurydice.

“Will you help us?”

“Yes!”

Cypress noticed someone sneaking out the back, and he suddenly felt very sick. He couldn’t explain what came over him, but he turned to his twin and whispered in her ear. “We need to go now. We need to end this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Myrtle. Something’s going to happen.”

“We won’t forget!” Eurydice shouted, eliciting another cheer from the crowd.

“That’s right!” Myrtle said, waving her arms to cut off the cheers. Cypress was glad that she had listened to him. “We will remember. Now, leave. Spread the message. Bide your time, but be ready, because when change comes, it will work quickly. Remember that all the only thing needed to start a forest fire is a spark – and when that spark ignites, everything will burn.”

There was a thundering applause – an applause that concealed the footsteps of the Peacekeepers heading up the stairs.

“Leave!” Cypress shouted, as the first of the Peacekeepers came through the door.

A gunshot rung through the air, and for a moment there was silence. And then, a mad scramble to the doors.

The Peacekeepers burst into the room, their guns raised. The crowd screamed, and did the only thing they could – fought back.

“Myrtle, Eurydice, get down!” he shouted, grabbing his sister and pulling her down to the floor. Eurydice flung herself onto her stomach and crawled under a table. The bullets put holes in the walls, and Cypress realised with a sinking stomach that they were trapped like rats. Who had been the mole? Mu? He didn’t know, and couldn’t think about it right now.

The people were swarming, and using whatever they could as weapons – chair legs, their bare hands, butter knives. But their strength was nothing to the Peacekeepers’ guns – they dropped like flies. Cypress saw a flash of dark hair, and was glad that Elm’s mother had made it outside. The same couldn’t be said for Tamora’s father.

“Come on!” Cypress shouted. “The window!”

Myrtle, catching on quickly, jumped to her feet and threw a chair through the pane. They were only on the second story, but it was a long drop – they would have to risk it. They had no chance at all if they stayed. People had caught on, and were flinging themselves from the room, abandoning fallen friends and relatives, everyone’s humanity disappearing as the panic to survive wracked their minds. Cypress could relate to that. It wasn’t only the arena that turned people into animals.

“Eurydice!” Myrtle screamed. “Hurry!”

Eurydice crawled out from under the table and jumped to her feet. She looked at them both, and opened her mouth to say something. She likely didn’t even hear the bullet that killed her.

The bullet tore through Eurydice’s skull, and Cypress watched as her blood pooled around his feet, staining her silver-blonde hair scarlet. He let out a choked sob, and cradled her head in his arms. Her pale blue eyes were still open, and he closed them for her.

Myrtle grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “Come on,” she rasped, her voice choked with tears, and together they ran towards the window, leaving their friend behind.

“Stop or we’ll shoot!” A Peacekeeper yelled. Cypress couldn’t count all the guns that were pointed at their faces – there had to be at least twenty of the horrible things. He wasn’t sure if they would shoot him – but they wouldn’t hesitate to murder his sister, the same way they had so callously murdered Eurydice. Eurydice, who hadn’t hurt anyone. Eurydice, who had tried to run. Eurydice, whose mother was waiting for her to get home. Eurydice, who had only been seventeen.

Myrtle twitched, and Cypress grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to her knees. He could tell she wanted to keep fighting. “Stop, Myr. Stop,” he said, feeling the tears pouring down his face. It was his fault, his fault, all his fault – he should have been more subtle, he should have saved these people. How many had died tonight, because of him?

As their hands were bound tightly with rope and they were led from the room, Cypress didn’t stop to count the bullet-ridden bodies. It didn’t matter anymore. Rebel and Peacekeeper blood mixed together on the dusty wooden floor, staining their shoes as they walked, seeping into the wood and staining it dark.

Mu lay dead in the hallway, a hole in his forehead. The bar downstairs was empty and silent. None of the Peacekeepers spoke, and neither did they.

They were shoved into the Peacekeeper’s vehicle, crammed in between two Peacekeepers in the small backseat, away from the doors. Cypress managed to wiggle one of his hands free from the rope that bound his wrists, and took Myrtle’s hand behind her back, squeezing it in what he hoped was a comforting way.

They didn’t need to wonder where they were being taken – Cypress knew it would probably be to the Barracks, for questioning, and likely torturing. There were no windows in the backseat, and the partition stopped them from being able to see out of the windscreen, but Cypress didn’t care. They were only in the car for about ten minutes, and Cypress was surprised – the Barracks were obviously much closer to town than he had thought.

The door on Cypress’s side was kicked open, and his confusion grew when he saw the tall houses of the Victor’s Village. Weren’t they being taken in for questioning, or a whipping, at the very least? He didn’t trust the Peacekeepers to let them off without punishment – they had been caught, in an illegally rented room, saying illegal things, and encouraging people to spread their illegal message.

It all made more sense when Cypress was the only one they dragged out of the car. He now realised what their punishments would be. “No!” he yelled, fighting against the three Peacekeepers that were holding him as they dragged him up the stairs of his house.

“Myrtle! Myrtle, no – let go of me! Let her go! Myrtle!” He kicked at the Peackeepers, and tried grabbing a gun with his free hand – they hit him over the head with a baton.

“No! Let me out!” Myrtle shrieked, kicking at the Peacekeepers, thrashing and flailing in their firm grip. “Cypress! Cy-“

The car door slammed closed, effectively shutting off Myrtle’s screams of dismay. Seeing stars, Cypress struggled against the Peacekeepers, reaching out for the vehicle that was quickly leaving him behind.

“Myrtle!” Cypress screamed, trying to escape their grip. He had to get to his sister – he had to. They were going to do something terrible to her, he knew that – she would be punished enough for two people, which would in turn punish him. “No – Myrtle! Myrtle! Let go, let go – MYRTLE!”

The Peacekeepers hit him again, and forced him over the threshold of his house, dragging him into the study, which was the one room without windows. Very smart of them, he had to admit. He spat at his captors, and managed to pull off one of their helmets – the woman who had been hiding under it growled at him, her blue eyes menacing. “Stop struggling,” she hissed. “It’s all over now.”

Cypress didn’t stop to question what she meant. He didn’t care anymore. Wriggling his arm free again, he raked his fingernails down her face, happy when blood spurted from her cheek. With a howl, the woman clapped a hand over her eye – which was one more hand not holding Cypress. He wriggled free, and leapt for the door. He had to get to Myrtle, he had to – what would they do to her?

A firm slap to the face sent Cypress to the ground – he slumped to the floor, defeated. He knew it wasn’t worth fighting. There was nothing he could do for his sister now except hope. “Where are they taking her?”

“To the gallows,” the blue-eyed Peacekeeper replied.

At first, Cypress didn’t recognise that the sound that had escaped his lips was human. It sounded so animal, so alien, an unearthly wail.

There was nothing left for him in the world anymore.

One of the Peacekeepers shoved him to the floor, and the three of them left the room, locking the door behind them. Were they leaving him there to starve? Certainly no-one would come looking for him – Hollis and Tamora would never risk being caught in the Victor’s Village without permission – it was a crime punishable by fifteen lashes. Sylvia didn’t like him to start with, and would inevitably find out about poor Eurydice’s demise - she would be happy to let him rot. Perry didn’t care about anything but the rebellion. Myrtle was probably dead already, and if not, she would be soon.

Cypress didn’t care, though. He had been dead for a long time. He had been a dead man since the day he was picked to represent District Seven – he had been dead since the moment his name had left Arabella’s lips. He was a dead man walking, and it was time for him to leave the Earth. He would not starve. He still knew how to tie knots. He decided he would die as his sister would.

He had killed two people in the arena. The first was the girl from District Two. She hadn’t deserved it – she just wanted to go home, just like he did. She had run at him with her sword, intending to plunge it through his stomach – he had managed to get his hands on an axe by then, and sent it flying into her skull.

The second had been the boy from District Four – he had tried to run Cypress through with a harpoon. His death had lasted a lot longer than the girl from Two’s had – Cypress had been angry, you see. Angry that he had died. Angry that he hadn’t been able to die after a long life at his home. Angry that the Capitol had taken away his parents, leaving him and Myrtle to be raised in the cruelty of the Community Home. Angry that his district partner was a helpless twelve-year old, doomed from the start. Angry that he had no choice but to kill.

The boy from Four had screamed, as Cypress, half-blinded with misplaced anger, had hacked off his arms and legs. He had been barely conscious when Cypress delivered the killing blow. He had been unfortunate, the undeserving recipient of Cypress’ anger towards those that had wronged him.

Cypress thought that the boy from Four would be happy to see him now. Cheering him on, even, as he tied what would be his final knot. He was dead anyway – it didn’t matter what he did. Myrtle was the only reason he had stuck around, after escaping the arena, and she was almost certainly dead by now. In any case, she wouldn’t be returning to their home.

His life was worth nothing now. He was a dead man walking – soon to be walking no longer.

Cypress stepped off the chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. This is dark. Probably the darkest chapter I’ve written so far. I really struggled to write this, and I apologise if I ruined your day. Poor Cypress, poor Mytle, and of course poor Eurydice. This had to happen eventually, though, and though it’s cruel – so is Panem.
> 
> I recommend you go give ‘Je te laisserai dets mots’ a listen – I think it matches this chapter, and kind of reflects Eurydice and Jo’s relationship in my opinion. Warning: it is very sad. You have been warned. It’s French, but there is an English translation if you want to understand the lyrics. It’s actually where I got the name for this chapter – ‘Je te laisserai dets mots’ means ‘I’ll leave you words’ in English.
> 
> I hope this didn’t trigger anything for anyone – I’m truly sorry if it did. If you need to talk, feel free to reach out to me, I’m a good listener. I also advise anyone who is struggling with their mental health to reach out to a trusted person or a helpline – you’re not alone in your struggles, and remember that help will always be given to those who ask for it, to quote Albus Dumbledore.
> 
> Take care of yourself during these hard times, and of course, have a great day/night.
> 
> -Audrey :)


	20. Watching the Sky Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna washes the dried blood from her body, and makes an important decision.

**Arena, Forest, Day 8: Johanna Mason**

Johanna couldn’t say too much in the Capitol’s favour, but she had to admit that they made good drugs. Overnight, her cheek seemed to have threaded itself back together, and though it was still tender and slightly bloody, it was at least in one piece. The once-deep gashes on her stomach and shoulder had been reduced to slight pink lines, and Johanna was grateful for Maizy’s mentor – she obviously knew her shit.

It may have even saved Maizy, but the girl had been so far gone anyway that Johanna doubted it. A couple of cuts were a very different story to a severed hand – a cut so clean it had swiped through bone, through muscle, through flesh – a cut so clean that blood had spurted from it as though it were a water hose. No, Maizy would have died from her injury, medicine or not – it would have only been a matter of when, of how long.

It didn’t seem to have done much for her bumps and bruises, nor for her ankle – but, testing it, Johanna didn’t think it was broken after all. It was definitely badly sprained, and she would probably be stuck on the ground for another couple of days, but at least it wasn’t broken.

Johanna decided to stay right where she was. She hadn’t been attacked overnight, and that was good enough for her. Even in her semi-conscious state the day before, Johanna had picked a good hiding place – the bush was identical to most of the shrubbery she had seen in this area of the forest. She wasn’t sure what kind of plant it was, but it was big enough for her to sit up comfortably, and the leaves were thick enough to conceal her and all of her supplies.

For a moment she was worried she had chosen poison ivy – but she didn’t have a rash and wasn’t itchy. She knew it wasn’t wise to choose an unfamiliar plant for her hiding space – it could be a creation of the Gamemakers, designed to harm her – but she didn’t have much choice, and if it was there to hurt her it would have done so by now.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, and Johanna realised that she hadn’t eaten since the small meal she’d had by the stream the previous day. Going through her supplies, Johanna hesitated before opening the small can of tinned salmon. She had been saving it, but she knew she needed some sort of iron-rich meat to make up for all the blood she lost yesterday. The medicine had healed her wounds, but that was only part of it.

The salmon thankfully didn’t require a can-opener. Johanna desperately wanted to gobble it all down at once, but forced herself to eat slowly – she couldn’t risk vomiting. She needed the nutrients desperately.

When she had finished eating the salmon, she ate the rest of the green stuff she’d found by the stream. She cut a small slice of bread, but left the rest. It would be fine for a couple of days – and she still had some of the leftover dried fruit – but after that, Johanna would have to go searching for food. Hopefully by that time her ankle would be feeling a little better, and she could walk without too much difficulty.

The bear had just come out of nowhere yesterday. It was as though it had melted out of the trees – one second she had been alone, and the next she had been fleeing from a big fucking bear. She supposed it was a good thing – there had only been one of it, so that suggested that the Gamemakers wanted to test her abilities rather than kill her. And if they wanted to test her abilities, they obviously intended to keep her around.

She knew that the audience would definitely be more interested in her opponents, but having the Gamemakers on her side – or at least interested in her – was a good thing. Right? Johanna wasn’t completely sure. Did they just want to keep her around for the ratings, to keep things interesting for a while – or did they think she could actually be the Victor?

“I guess I have to be interesting,” Johanna mumbled. Not today. She wouldn’t last if she tried to be interesting today. But perhaps tomorrow – when she felt a bit healthier – perhaps tomorrow it would be time for Johanna to hunt down her opponents.

She felt sick at the thought, but she had known from the very start that the time would come eventually. She wasn’t worried that she would lose in a fight – she had fought and killed a gigantic fucking bear, after all – but she didn’t want to have to kill people. She had already semi-killed Maizy, had at least abandoned her knowing she would die, but Johanna knew that directly killing someone would be a whole new level of awful.

 _Can I actually do it?_ She wondered. _If it actually came down to it, would I be able and willing to take someone’s life away from them?_ Johanna decided that if it came down to her life or a stranger’s – she would pick her life. She had people to get back to. Of course, the stranger would also have people to get back to – but Johanna didn’t know those people. She didn’t care about those people. At least, that was what she told herself.

It was all very confusing. Johanna took another bite of bread.

0o0o

She had been working on the bear carving when the cannon boomed. Johanna jumped, and her knife slipped off the wood and cut her finger. “Shit!” she said, putting her finger in her mouth and sucking it, grimacing at the coppery taste of her blood. She was really sick of the stuff. At least the cut wasn’t deep. She dabbed some anti-bacterial ointment on it before wrapping it in a strip of bandage.

She wondered who had died. With any luck, it was one of the Careers – or maybe the boy from Nine or the crazy girl from Ten. Really, Johanna was just happy that she was closer to getting home and seeing Eurydice and her family again. _Soon,_ she told herself.

She was still covered in dried blood, a mixture of hers and the bear’s. It was a horrible feeling – it had managed to get all over her. Under her nails, behind her ears, her collarbones. It was disgusting, and Johanna wanted nothing more than to trek back to the stream and wash it all off – but she still didn’t trust her ankle. If she was attacked, this time she wouldn’t be able to run.

The blood was starting to smell, too. Johanna thought it must have even gotten into her nose, because it was the only thing she could smell, even though she had been forced to designate the neighbouring bush as the toilet bush. If she couldn’t even smell day-old piss – there _had_ to be blood in her nose.

Johanna was used to being dirty, from working in the forests, but she had always managed to at least have good hygiene. She hated not being able to wash herself properly – she felt as though the disgustingness that coated her skin was seeping into her pores, into her very soul, even. She hadn’t even left it yet, and she had already been contaminated for life by the arena. She wanted to scrub her skin raw with a piece of steel wool, and perhaps a bar of acid soap – even then, Johanna didn’t think she would feel clean.

She even missed brushing her teeth. As a kid, she had always fought her parents tooth and nail when it was time to brush her teeth. She had hated it, and once she even hid in a tree so she didn’t have to – but now, Johanna would kill for a toothbrush.

She probably looked a sight, too. The blood had congealed in her hair, turning it into a matted mess – her mother would have told her to watch out for birds as it resembled a nest – and even her clothes were disgusting. Johanna didn’t exactly love the idea of all of Panem seeing her naked, but she would tolerate that if it meant she could take off her clothes. She would have taken them off already if it wasn’t so damned cold.

If she got out of the arena – and Johanna was determined that she would – she decided that she would never go more than a day ever again without bathing. The idea of a bath was heavenly – or one of the Capitol’s showers. Oh, what she would give to jump into a shower right now and come out of it smelling like daisies or chocolate or fucking pumpkin spice or whatever. She would honestly rather smell like dog shit than blood.

Testing her ankle again, Johanna decided that she would risk the walk back to the stream. She felt like shit, and knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she felt like shit. Washing the blood off would make her feel less like shit, and would hopefully let her sleep better, which she needed if she was to go out and kill people tomorrow. Besides, maybe her ankle could use the stretching – her mother would have told her to walk it off. She had elevated it all day, had compressed it tightly with a strip of fabric torn from her shirt – there wasn’t anything else she could do for it.

Grabbing the satchel and the branch/walking stick, Johanna climbed out of the shrub, discreetly placing a rock about the size of her hand at the base of it so she would be able to find it again.

It didn’t take long to find the stream again, and Johanna let out a sigh of relief. Re-filling her water bottles, she put in a couple of iodine tablets before stripping off. She decided to wash her clothes after she had washed herself – they would take some time to dry, sure, but if there was one thing Johanna had plenty of in the arena, it was time.

Scrubbing the blood and dirt from her skin, Johanna finally felt a little less shitty. She had a full stomach, her injuries were healing at a good pace, and she wasn’t going to be attacked by any more mutts anytime soon. Tributes she couldn’t say the same for, but at least she knew that there wouldn’t be any more mutts for a while, if at all.

She managed to scrub the blood out of her hair – it took a while, and she couldn’t count how many times her fingernails were snagged in the matted mess, but eventually Johanna’s hair resembled hair rather than somewhere a bird would lay eggs.

She rinsed out her clothes, laying them out onto the rocks to dry. Floating on her back, Johanna watched the small strips of sky she could see through the trees change colour. First they were a bright, brilliant blue, and then pink, and then a brilliant orange, and then pink again, before fading into the brilliant blue of night-time.

Before, Johanna had never had the time to sit and watch the sky. There was always something to do – a shift to complete, clothes to clean, food to cook, homework to do. She hated the arena – but, funnily enough, she appreciated that she had the time to watch the sky change. Of course, the arena fucking sucked in every meaning of the word – sucked the life right out of people and also was the worst thing she had ever experienced – and the Gamemakers could go die in a fiery hell, but Johanna did have to admit that it was nice to float on her back and watch the sky.

Climbing out of the stream, Johanna pulled on her still slightly damp clothes and headed back to the shrub. She did feel better, and despite the risk it had been worth it. She had climbed out of the stream refreshed and ready for tomorrow – tomorrow when she would start to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I know, I know, another short one. I haven’t been feeling very motivated lately, and I’ve also felt very overwhelmed with schoolwork. It’s that fun time of term when everything’s due all at once. Oh, and guess what – your girl’s failing maths! Which is just fan-fucking-tastic.
> 
> So, Jo’s ready to start chopping some bones. How do you think that’s going to go? It definitely won’t go the way she plans it to… or will it?
> 
> Oh, also, it’s my dog’s birthday and she is just SO DAMN CUTE and I just wanted to share that. She has this little teddy bear that she loves to rip holes in, and I confiscated it so I could stitch it up. Anyway, I put that off for a month but gave it to her today and IT WAS SO CUTE YOU HAVE NO IDEA she went all bouncy and tried to smack the thing out of my hands. It was very rude of her. Sorry, unrelated I know. I think my ANs are getting longer with each chapter so I’ll just go ahead and shut up.
> 
> Hope you’re all well – take care of yourself and have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	21. Magnolia: Lungs Full of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia receives some devastating news.

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse, Day 8 of the Games: Magnolia Babineaux**

Magnolia knew from the moment she picked up the phone that something was wrong. Seriously, horribly wrong. Sylvia’s breathing was off; it was thick, heavy, as though she had just been pulled from a reckless sea, half-drowned, her lungs full of water.

“She’s dead, Mom,” Sylvia said, her voice scratchy; Magnolia immediately knew who but couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

“What? Sylvia, who – who’s dead?” she asked, not wanting to hear the answer – that would make it even more real, even more true – she didn’t know yet but for a moment she allowed herself to imagine that it wasn’t who she knew it was.

“Eur-“ Sylvia managed to get out the first syllable before bursting into a flurry of choked sobs. Magnolia felt her knees go weak, heard a sudden sharp intake of breath that she supposed came from her. It had to be a mistake. Eurydice couldn’t be dead, not her granddaughter, not the girl she had spoken to only days ago. How could she be dead?

Magnolia tried to say something, but no words came out; she could hear her daughter still crying on the other side of the line and wondered how it had happened. “Sylvie… how?” she managed, her throat suddenly dry and scratchy; she hoped that Sylvia would be alright until she got home.

Sylvia hissed angrily, sounding remarkably like a cat. “It was the twins.”

Magnolia furrowed her brow, not knowing immediately who Sylvia was talking about. It was as if her memory was still stuck in the past few moments, and she paused for a second before finally remembering to respond. “The twins?”

“C-Cypress,” Sylvia hiccupped. “Myrtle. They took her and none of them came home.”

“What do you-“

“A revolution, Mom. They were trying to organise a revolution. They were all executed,” Sylvia said, her voice breaking on the last word.

Magnolia shushed her hastily; the lines were certainly tapped. She had explicitly ordered Perry not to involve her granddaughter in the rebellion – she should have known that he wouldn’t listen. She should have known that Eurydice was involved – she could have stopped it. “Do _not_ tell me anything else, Sylvie. I will see if I can come home.”

“What about Johanna? She needs you.”

“You need me more.”

“Eury- _she_ would want you to stay.”

Magnolia sighed. “Yes, she would, wouldn’t she.” It wasn’t a question; they both knew that it wasn’t. They both knew what Eurydice would have wanted, above anything, _anyone,_ else; Sylvia would have to manage on her own for a little bit longer.

“I just-“ Sylvia was crying again, softly this time – her voice sounded worn, tired, as though she had been crying consistently for several hours. “I c-can’t believe she’s really gone.”

“When?” asked Magnolia, keeping her sentences short; she didn’t trust herself not to break down, and she could tell that she needed to be strong. Sylvia needed her to be a rock; emotionless and grounded. She could not and would not allow herself to be anything else.

“Y-yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I only found out this m-morning, I-“

“Hush,” Magnolia said. “Deep breaths.” She was saying it for her own benefit as much as Sylvia’s – deep breaths had gotten her through her Games, through her many years of mentoring – she hoped they would get her through this, too.

“You have to get Johanna home, Mom,” Sylvia said. “For Eurydice.”

“I will,” Magnolia whispered, so softly she wasn’t sure if the words had left her mouth. “Be safe, Sylvie. I will see you soon.”

“I’ll be alright, Mom,” Sylvia said; they both knew that it was a lie.

She heard the click from the other end of the line as Sylvia set the phone down. Magnolia clutched the phone to her chest and felt herself sliding slowly down the wall, which she hadn’t even realised she’d been leaning on – it couldn’t be true. Surely it wasn’t true?

Her throat was thick but Magnolia knew that if she started crying she wouldn’t be able to stop. So she didn’t start. Forcing herself to stand, Magnolia dropped the phone and brushed her hair out of her face with her hand. It was as though she was on autopilot all the way to the Control Room – she stormed into it, ignoring the quizzical looks the other mentors gave her, stepping around them as their mouths opened to speak. The Careers were in a little huddle in the corner of the main room; Magnolia desperately wanted to eavesdrop but there was no time for that. Thoughts tried to enter her mind but she pushed them away – if she let herself be distracted she would crumble.

Blight and Oscar looked up when she entered the room – questions written on their faces that she didn’t care to answer. “This must end,” she heard herself saying. She had to get home to her daughter – and Johanna had been in the arena long enough. It had to end. She had to go home.

Her two fellow mentors shared a glance before nodding at her – they knew better than to ask questions when she was in such a state. They knew, anyway, that she would answer them eventually – it could be weeks before they got a response, but they knew they would get one.

Magnolia was glad, when they left. Panning out the screen, she took in Johanna’s surroundings – she would be fine where she was, as the nearest tribute was over a kilometre away, and to make things even better it was only the small boy from Five. But Johanna would have to start killing, sooner than they had planned. Magnolia wanted her out of there so they could both go home.

There wasn’t much of the sponsor money left, but Magnolia didn’t care. The money would start flowing in when Johanna started to hunt – already the audience knew she was now the one to watch. The fight with the bear had pleasantly surprised them, which was the exact reason Magnolia asked Horatio to send it. It would never have killed Johanna – Magnolia spent an extra hour with Horatio to ensure that – but the Capitol didn’t know that. They now knew that Johanna wasn’t the cowardly girl they had thought she was. They now knew what she could do; they now knew that she would only continue to impress them.

Magnolia quickly typed out a short note, and sent the order. It arrived quickly. Johanna looked up, surprised when she opened the parachute to find the miracle bandage, which was a temporary fix to sprains. It would work for only a day or two – but by then, Magnolia hoped that Johanna would be on her way back to the Capitol. Johanna’s surprised expression only grew more surprised when she read the note, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to make sense of Magnolia’s words.

_End this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, and I know it’s kinda short. I’ve been super busy with school this week; the holidays are in a couple of weeks though which I am so excited for. I’m also working on a longer chapter which is nearly done.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I’m sorry it’s so sad.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	22. Marin: Kill Your Darlings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Career alliance is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Persephone by Tamino

**Arena, Lake, Day 8: Marin Callahan**

Marin had refused to bathe since Solomon’s death. She just couldn’t bring herself to touch the water of the lake – the lake where he had swum, the lake in which he had died in. Her skin was coated in a thin layer of grime and Marin knew that she stunk to high heavens. She just couldn’t bring herself to care.

She was beginning to annoy her allies, she could tell. She saw it in their eyes – the eye-rolls they exchanged when Marin refused to do something, when Marin wouldn’t eat, when Marin yet again volunteered for guard duty because she couldn’t sleep. She saw it in the looks they gave her – the ones they thought she didn’t see. They were wrong. She saw.

It was true that Marin had done next to nothing since his death, but she couldn’t help it. The drowning feeling was back – the water was up to her ears, almost covering her entirely. It was an effort to breathe, let alone to raise her arm and bring food to her mouth, let alone agree to go hunting with Topaz and Vita. She knew she was a liability. She knew that soon their alliance would break, and she would have to manage on her own without their help. She knew that. But for now… for now, at least, Marin could pretend that she was anywhere but here. For now, she could indulge in her depression.

“Hey,” Vita said, sitting next to her by the fire and gesturing for Topaz to join them. “We gotta talk about what’s happening next.”

“What do you mean?” Marin asked, raising her eyes to Vita.

“Well,” Vita said. “We’re in the final seven.”

“Seven? Are we really?” Marin asked. She couldn’t remember hearing another cannon.

“Yeah. Didn’t you hear the one before?” asked Topaz.

Marin shook her head.

Vita laughed. “I’m not surprised. You’re a vegetable.”

“Vita!” Topaz admonished.

Vita rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, Topaz, you know it’s true, she’s useless.”

“Still,” said Topaz, looking at Marin. Marin shrugged, pretending that it was no big deal, that she didn’t care what was said to her. Vita’s words stung, but they were true. At least she wasn’t making things up. Marin _was_ useless – any fool with a brain and at least one eye could figure that out.

“Anyway,” Vita continued. “We have to break the alliance at some point, and I for one would rather do it sooner rather than later.”

Topaz nodded. “When do you propose?”

“Final five?” Marin suggested.

That way there would be less chance of it coming down to two of them. Marin didn’t want to have to kill her allies, her _friends,_ to go home, but she knew that if they were the last ones left, she wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to get home to Minnow. She would kill a thousand friends if it meant she could hear her daughter’s laugh one more time. Still, she would prefer it came down to herself and someone she didn’t know.

Vita shrugged, and looked at Topaz. “Sounds good to me.”

“Okay,” said Marin.

“I’m so ready to get out of this fucking arena.”

“Same,” Topaz said, leaning back and kicking up dirt, a bit too close to the fire for Marin’s liking. Vita threw Topaz a nasty look; she was very protective over the fire, as she spent a good portion of her time keeping it burning. It didn’t matter – they had stacks of lighters – but Marin knew it would only cause fights.

“Me too,” whispered Marin, thinking of Minnow, of Del, of home. It felt further away by the day – as Marin grew tireder, as the water around her grew taller, Marin felt more and more hopeless. She couldn’t see how she would make it out of the arena, couldn’t see how she would best her fellow tributes – if she didn’t have the energy to eat, how was she meant to raise her dagger and go about killing people?

“Well, that’s settled, then,” said Vita, rising from the log and shaking first Marin’s hand, then Topaz’s.

Topaz let out a sigh, and picked up a dry leaf from the kindling pile which she began shredding into tiny little pieces. “I can’t say that I’m thrilled we have to split up, but I spose’ it’s for the best.”

“Better we split up sooner rather than later – I mean we wouldn’t want it to come down to just us, would we?” Marin said.

“No,” said Vita, giving Marin a small smile, which Marin found slightly confusing – she didn’t think she’d said anything that warranted a smile. “No, that would suck.”

“Who’s left?” Topaz asked, furrowing her eyebrows in thought. “There’s the girl from Ten… boy from Nine…”

“That kid from Five.”

“Who else?” Marin asked, wracking her brains. “Oh! The boy from Eleven.”

“Yeah, but who’s the other one? That’s only three, there’s someone else.”

“Oh. Girl from Seven, isn’t it?” said Topaz.

Vita scoffed. “I highly doubt that. Isn’t she the one that got a One in training? The one that wouldn’t stop crying? How the fuck’s she meant to have survived?”

“Luck, maybe?” Marin suggested, not really caring. It didn’t matter, at this point, who was alive – after all, most of the tributes would probably be dead in a matter of days. Hopefully Marin wouldn’t be one of them. “Or maybe she has some sort of secret skill. Maybe it was an act.” She was grasping at straws, she knew that – she doubted that anything more than luck had allowed Seven to survive. But then again, miracles happened.

“Maybe. But I bet that was her cannon before,” Topaz said.

“Well, whatever the reason is, she’ll be dead soon,” Vita said, standing up. “Now, I’m going to go hunt, could anyone care to join me?”

Topaz practically jumped to her feet. She obviously also understood the importance of staying in the Capitol’s interest, or maybe she was just bored. “I’m coming. Marin?”

Marin shrugged. Her limbs felt like lead, and she doubted she would be much use to them. “Someone has to guard the supplies.”

The other two seemed to have forgotten the fact they’d agreed not to leave anyone behind, or perhaps they no longer cared, because ten minutes later Marin was sitting alone, watching the still water of the lake and thinking of home.

**DAY 9**

It had been a slow day, mostly – Marin knew that wasn’t a good thing. At this point in the Games, the audience would be expecting things to move quickly, with a death or even two per day in some cases. She was glad when the cannon sounded sometime in the afternoon, although it hadn’t been their kill – none of the Careers had killed someone since the boy from Seven. She wondered who it was – yesterday’s cannon had been the boy from Eleven, who Marin hadn’t seen since the Bloodbath. She couldn’t even remember his name. Lynx or something.

Marin could sense that her allies were getting anxious. After they had gone hunting in the morning, Vita had spent the day shooting at makeshift targets they had hung on trees, as well as sharpening her array of swords and knives. Topaz had spent it stabbing at the air and practicing her rolls and defence moves. Marin had spent it twiddling her thumbs and folding and re-folding her photograph of Minnow.

Dinner arrived in three neat parachutes. Their sponsor gifts were getting smaller as time went on, and they were shown the hierarchy of their alliance by the extravagancy of their gifts. Vita was given two whole steaks, with a side of green vegetables and a small loaf of bread. Topaz was given a container of rabbit stew, with an even smaller loaf of bread. Marin was given a small bowl of vegetable broth and a single slice of bread.

She wasn’t surprised that the audience didn’t like her as much as her allies – she was, without a doubt, the least exciting of the Careers. They liked Vita because she was ruthless. They liked Topaz because she was skilled. They liked Marin because she was pretty – but she knew that the arena had made whatever looks she had possessed in the past fade. On top of that, she hadn’t done anything interesting for days – in fact, she hadn’t done anything interesting since the Bloodbath, which she was still trying to forget.

Her allies didn’t share their food with her, not that she had been expecting them to. Topaz and Vita had a practice spar, using branches instead of swords so that they didn’t accidentally hurt each other – Marin sat by the fire, watching the flickering flames and savouring their warmth.

“I’ll take first watch,” Vita said, when Topaz announced she was heading to bed.

Marin agreed; she was tired, and although she knew she was just going to spend the night staring at the roof of her tent, at least she would have some time away from her allies’ paranoia. The paranoia followed her into the tent.

She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not, her wanting to be away from them. Someone else was sure to die soon, maybe even in a matter of hours – they would soon have to split up. If anything, she should be wanting to be around them more, because who knew how things would play out.

 _Maybe,_ she thought, _it’s better for me to distance myself._ It would only make it harder on her, after all, if she grew even closer to them than she already was, because that would make their deaths harder. And they would die soon, both of them – they had to, after all, if she was to make it home to Minnow.

0o0o

Marin didn’t know how she had managed to fall asleep, nor did she know how long she had been sleeping; it didn’t matter, anyway, because Topaz’s piercing scream woke her up.

Sitting up in fright, Marin pulled her blanket up to her chest, shivering for a moment before finding her dagger and hastily tying up her shoes.

Slowly, quietly, she unzipped the tent. Topaz’s scream hadn’t ended, and for a moment Marin thought she was back at the Cornucopia during the Bloodbath – except this time her ally’s scream wasn’t a scream of grief. It was a scream of pain.

 _Where’s Vita?_ Marin wondered as she tip-toed over to Topaz’s tent, her stomach sinking. _Surely Vita hadn’t… oh, there she is._

The door to Topaz’s tent was open. Marin knew that Topaz hadn’t been the one to unzip it, she couldn’t have been, because Vita was currently in the process of cutting her open. From the looks of it, the girl from One hadn’t even left her sleeping bag.

Marin tried to conceal her gasp, but found herself unable to. It was a gory sight; made worse, perhaps, due to the fact that it was her ally’s – her _friend’s_ – blood that was dripping from Vita’s hands, her friend’s blood that had splattered all over the plastic of the tent, her friend’s internal organs that weren’t internal anymore. Vita had abandoned her longbow for the sword she had taken from the Seven boy – she evidently wanted to put on a show for her buddies in the Capitol. Marin could hear Topaz’s dying, rattling breaths, desperately clinging to life for as long as she could. Marin knew that there was nothing she could do for her.

Vita turned around, her face as still as a statue’s. “Oh, hello,” she said, standing up. Topaz’s cannon boomed. Marin took a step back. “I was leaving you til’ last.”

“Why?” Marin managed, walking backwards, away from the tent. She was glad that she had had the sense to bring her back-up dagger as well as her main dagger – something told her that she was going to need both. She reached up and took them both from her breast pocket.

Vita sneered, watching her. “Is that even a question?”

She seemed different – maybe that was due to the fact she had just gutted Topaz, but Marin didn’t think so. Vita had redeemed herself to Marin the other day, but Marin was starting to believe that her gut feeling over Vita had been correct from the start – she wasn’t trustworthy. She wondered if Vita’s supposed grief over Alaric had even been real – the emotionless statue of a girl standing in front of Marin didn’t seem capable of grief.

“Answer it anyway,” Marin said, finding that she was curious to know the answer.

Vita wiped her hands on her pants, her smeared scarlet handprints marring the fabric. “Topaz is the better fighter, and a lighter sleeper than you. If I had’ve attacked you first, she would have woken at the first scream – I probably wouldn’t have had the time to finish you off. And then I could have had two well-trained Careers fighting me – those are odds I don’t want to play around with.”

Vita took another step forward. Marin stepped backwards.

“You took a little bit longer than she did to wake up. I knew you would, I heard you snoring. You sound like my Dad, by the way, it’s pathetic,” Vita said with a smirk, taking another step towards Marin.

Taking another step backwards, Marin noticed that Vita was trying to push her towards the lake – didn’t she remember what district Marin was from?

“It wasn’t the final five,” Marin said, her throat dry.

Vita grinned. “I don’t think that matters anymore, Marin.”

“You’re crazy,” Marin whispered.

Vita let out a laugh that raised goose bumps on Marin’s arms. “No, I’m not crazy, Marin, just determined. And anyway, is crazy such a bad thing to be in the arena?

Marin couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and instead took another step backwards, right in the nick of time, too.

Her ex-ally lunged forwards, and Marin felt a cut open up on her arm as she dove out of the way. “You’re just prolonging the inevitable, Four,” Vita said, blocking Marin’s dagger easily as she stabbed.

“I know,” Marin replied, jumping forwards again, stabbing wildly at her ally. She could barely see, in the darkness. It didn’t help that their clothes were dark as well – it made it very difficult to tell where Vita was. Although, that meant that it was likely hard for Vita to see Marin, so at least she had that on her side.

Vita swept her legs, and Marin fell to the ground, landing hard on her tailbone with a small yelp of pain. Wincing, Marin looked up at Vita, who was raising her sword – she could just make out her ex-ally’s face, pale in the moonlight. Marin didn’t bother crawling backwards – instead, she stabbed Vita’s thigh in what she hoped was the femoral artery. The spurt of blood that followed told her that she had stabbed the right place.

Vita yelled in pain, and fell to the ground, quickly trying to get up. “Oh, shit,” she whispered, propping herself up onto her elbows before pushing herself back up to her feet.

Even in the dark, Marin could tell that Vita was bleeding – she could see the blood, soaking through Vita’s pants, slowly pooling onto the ground. She was getting dizzy, Marin could tell – she was trying to stab at Marin, but was missing, as though she was seeing two Marins and was trying to kill the wrong one.

The moon came out from behind the clouds, lighting up their campsite. Vita’s face seemed unnaturally pale in the light, and Marin could see just how much blood she had already lost. She fell again, and it pooled around her, the moon making it glow as she took her dying breaths. This time, Vita didn’t stand up again.

“Fuck you, Four,” Vita whispered. “I was gonna… was gonna win…”

“Sorry, Vita,” Marin said.

Her former ally made one last small sound – Marin wasn’t sure if it was a groan, or if she was trying to say something – before her cannon went off. An eerie silence settled over the campsite, and Marin thought she could hear her heart beating in her chest, hear the blood pulsing through her veins.

Marin didn’t know how long she stood there staring down at Vita’s body. She didn’t know what to do. She felt frozen, as if the water she was drowning in had turned to ice, forever enclosing her in a frozen prison. Her allies were dead, there were three other tributes left – what was there left for her to do, but stand there and wait? Wait for something to happen, wait for rescue, wait for death? Marin had no idea what to do. She was scared – terrified, actually – but knew that now the time for indulgence was over. Now she had to do what she had to do to go home.

Only when the sun started to peek over the horizon did she move.

It was like she was a robot, following a series of instructions that had been programmed into her brain. Pick up your dagger, Marin. Clean it on the grass. Step over Vita’s body. Stay away from Topaz’s tent. Go to your tent, Marin. Lay down on your bed. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t move. Don’t even breathe. Wait until you hear the hovercraft leave, Marin.

She couldn’t say she was surprised that Vita had been the one to break the alliance. Marin wouldn’t have done it, after all, and she doubted that Topaz would have – the girl from One was loyal. Had been loyal.

Marin only started crying when she realised that her hands were still covered with Vita’s blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man. I’m real sad now. Poor Topaz, I liked her. Vita, not so much, but she was fun to write and has a family out there too that wanted her home.
> 
> I read somewhere that if the femoral artery is severed, you can bleed out in a matter of minutes/seconds depending on exactly how severed it is, and also how quickly the heart is beating. Now, I’m not a doctor, and also I’ve never cut someone’s femoral artery (nor do I intend to), so I have no idea if this is accurate or not. But I just guessed that Vita would die quicker because she’d been exercising – that is, brutally murdering her allies. So her heart was probably beating a lot of blood into her legs and arms.
> 
> Again, I don’t know and I’m not a doctor or a murderer, so I really can’t judge how accurate this is. I don’t really care to find out for myself. So yeah. Sorry.
> 
> Have a great day/night, and tell me what you thought of this chapter, I love hearing your thoughts!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	23. Cassian: Ticking Time Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian tricks Scythe into doing his dirty work, like the little asshole he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson

**Arena, Forest, Day 9 (early morning, before the Career massacre): Cassian Nicks**

“Long time, no see, Scythe,” Cassian said pleasantly, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. “How’s it hanging?”

Scythe thrashed in the net he was caught in, a scowl on his thin face. “Did you do this, you little shit?”

“Of course I did,” Cassian laughed. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He’d been silently following the boy from Nine for a day now – almost as long as he’d been following Johanna. He’d waited until Scythe had come close to his old haunt, where he and Maizy had set up the generator. It was close to where he knew Johanna was, which was exactly what he had wanted.

“You did, did you?” Scythe scoffed. “Usually, when one wants to talk to someone, they don’t trap them five feet in the air in a net.”

“I’m not an idiot, Scythe,” Cassian said, rolling his eyes. “Sneaking up on you would have been like signing my own death warrant.”

Scythe sighed, obviously agreeing. “What do you want, Five?”

“I wanted to give you some advice.”

“I don’t want your advice. Get me out of this fucking net.” Scythe gave another little struggle, as if hoping the net would suddenly fall from his body – as if. Cassian was good at knots, and the net had been designed to tighten the more the victim struggled.

“No, Scythe, you misunderstand,” he said, shaking his head. “You _do_ want my advice.”

“No the fuck I don’t,” Scythe hissed, reaching through the net and reaching towards Cassian as though he would love nothing more than to squeeze the life out of him.

Cassian smiled. “You do.”

“I don’t,” Scythe said stubbornly, staring at Cassian with cold eyes.

Cassian sighed. The exchange had, so far, reminded him of his younger sisters arguing over a toy. He knew Scythe was stubborn, immature even, but he hadn’t been expecting his former ally to be completely infantile. “I’m not going to stand around and argue like a child. How’s this – if you agree to listen to me, I’ll get you out of the net. Otherwise, I’m quite happy to leave you up there for someone else to find.”

Scythe huffed, obviously knowing that he had no other choice in the matter. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Thank you,” Cassian said. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Scythe?”

“Spit it out or I’ll – I’ll-“ Scythe faltered, obviously not sure what he would do.

Cassian smirked. “You’ll what, Scythe? Scream? Cry? Don’t think you can do much up there, you’re like a fly caught in a spider web.”

“Fucking spit it out already!” Scythe said angrily.

“I want you to hunt down Seven.” It was best to put it simply, Cassian had decided – he would leave the intricate details for later, for the story he had concocted.

Scythe pulled a face, looking as though he was about to laugh. “Seven? The wuss?”

“Seven the actress,” Cassian corrected.

He’d told the alliance of his suspicions early on – they hadn’t listened of course, not really, so he’d been expecting Scythe’s reaction of disbelief. But he needed Scythe to believe him now, needed Scythe to take out one of the biggest threats in the arena. And if Scythe didn’t succeed – well, there would still be one less enemy for Cassian to worry about. But Cassian knew that Johanna had to go – she had been a ticking time bomb from the start, and he knew that soon she would explode.

“What do you mean?” asked Scythe. “What do you mean, the actress?”

“It’s an act, Scythe. She had everyone fooled, except me… and Maizy…” Cassian tried to look sad at the mention of Maizy.

Scythe was visibly sobered at the mention of his district partner – he hadn’t cared for the girl much, but District’s Nine tributes were infamous for their loyalty to each other – in the entire history of the Games, none of Nine’s tributes had ever killed their district partner. “What happened to Maizy? Do you know how she died, Five?”

“It was Seven, Scythe, I saw it with my own eyes,” Cassian said sincerely. “Seven cornered us in the forest. Maizy was a fair bit behind me, and told me to hide – I had no choice, Scythe, I thought that if I hid, I’d be able to sneak up on Seven and help Maizy escape.”

“What happened then?” Scythe asked, his voice soft, as though afraid the girl who had supposedly killed Maizy was nearby.

“She’s a psychopath, Scythe, an utter psychopath. She cut off Maizy’s limbs with her axe – yes, all of them – and slit her throat,” Cassian said, gulping as though he were holding back tears. “She stared into Maizy’s as she – as she died… she’s crazy, Scythe, crazier than Natania.”

In reality, Cassian didn’t have any idea how Maizy had died – it had been the day after what had happened at the lake, and he hadn’t made any effort to find her. She probably knew, in her last moments, that he had betrayed her, and the thought of that stung – but he had done what he had to do, and it had resulted in him being three people closer to home. He didn’t regret it.

“Why didn’t you help her?” Scythe asked him accusingly.

Cassian shook his head. “I couldn’t, Scythe, I couldn’t. I’m not a fighter like you are – she would have killed me. I’m sorry to say that I’m not in the least bit brave, either. I hid while she died – I was just so scared, Scythe, that Seven would do to me what she did to Maizy. I’m ashamed to admit that I’m a coward, Scythe.”

Cassian watched Scythe’s face – the older boy had a pained expression, as though someone had pinched him very hard on the arm. “That’s why,” Cassian continued, “that’s why I needed to trap you. I need you to kill Seven – for the good of both of us. Now, she’s clever, and a good fighter, but I think if you sneak up on her you’ll be able to kill her.”

“D’you know where she is?”

“Eh, approximately,” Cassian said, tilting his hand from side to side.

“Where?”

“Last I saw her… when she killed – when Maizy-“ Cassian looked at the ground, pretending that he couldn’t get the words out. Sniffing pathetically, he looked up. “She’s in the forest, close to where we are now. Near the stream. That’s the most recent place I’ve seen her, anyway.”

“I’ll make her pay,” Scythe said, his eyes blazing. “I’ll get her for what she did to Maizy. Now get me out of this wretched net.”

Cassian shook his head, and then held up the stray end of the rope which was connected to the net. “I think I’ll go some distance away, first – it’s not that I don’t trust you, Scythe, it’s just that I understand that in this point of the Games there’s no such thing as a friend.”

Scythe nodded. “I won’t come after you.”

“Still,” Cassian said with a shrug. If it was him in Scythe’s position, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to kill. Walking ten metres from the tree Scythe was suspended in, Cassian slowly pulled the rope, waiting until the net was a metre from the ground before cutting through it. Something told him that Scythe wouldn’t be able to kill Johanna if he had a broken leg.

Scythe shook the net off his and gathered his supplies, turning around to face Cassian and giving him a nod. “I’ll get her, Five. And when she’s dead, I’ll come back here – you’d better be gone by then.”

Cassian nodded. “You’ll never see me again, Scythe. Have a marvelous day.”

Scythe gave him one final nod before walking off. Cassian bit back a laugh – either the people of District Nine were supreme idiots, or Cassian was a master manipulator. Which he was, of course, but it certainly helped that everyone around him was missing a brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muahahhahahahhaahahhaha!!
> 
> Some serious shit is about to go down, my friends. This chapter was kind of spontaneous – I sat down to write another Johanna chapter and then I had a thought – what if Cassian spilled the beans? I mean, people would be suspicious of her enough to believe quite easily that it was an act, so I thought that maybe it would be interesting if Scythe knew about the act. I don’t know. I’d love to hear what you think, in any case. Johanna will be back next chapter.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I love ya!
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	24. End This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna fully breaks her act after receiving a gift from Magnolia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Us and Them by Pink Floyd (this song is perfect for this chapter!)

**Arena, Forest, Day 9 (early morning, before the Career massacre): Johanna Mason**

The words of Magnolia’s note replayed over and over in Johanna’s head as though her mentor were standing there with her in the gloom of the forest, whispering into her ear. _End this._

It wasn’t that she didn’t know what Magnolia meant – it was quite clear that Magnolia thought it was time for her to break her act completely. She was just confused as to what had made Magnolia make the decision so quickly. There were still seven tributes left, including herself, and Johanna had thought that she would be breaking her act in the final four or five. She didn’t mind too much – she’d been planning on killing people soon anyway – she just had a lot of questions for her mentor.

Tightly wrapping the miracle bandage around her bad ankle, Johanna marvelled at how quickly it took its effect – her ankle felt almost as good as new. She wondered how it worked – maybe the compression stopped the swelling of the muscle? She made a mental note to ask someone when – if – she got out of the arena.

 _I’ll go after Cassian first,_ she decided, packing up all of her things after a small breakfast of bread. She wasn’t too far from the stream she had seen him and Maizy at a couple of days ago, and she thought that was as good a place to start as any. She wanted to get rid of the boy from Five as soon as possible – in her opinion, a smart person was far more dangerous than even the most skilled Career.

Taking tentative steps, Johanna decided she should take her makeshift walking stick with her just in case. Her ankle felt better, sure, but she didn’t trust it not to collapse on her unexpectedly. Even with the help of a Capitol-grade bandage.

She could walk almost normally. Shaking her head in wonder, Johanna began heading towards the stream, hoping to follow it to where she had seen Cassian last. Her heart was beating in her chest – she felt sick at what she had to do, even though she knew it meant her survival.

Tracking Cassian was easier than she thought it would be – there were little clues telling her he had been this way. A small footprint in the sundried mud of the riverbank. A lone red hair – one of Maizy’s – entangled on a bush. A broken twig here, a bit a frayed wire there. He had to be close – it had only been a couple of days since she had seen them by the stream, and she doubted he would have gone far. Although it was hard to tell, with Cassian. There was no telling what he might do.

Johanna had been so focused on finding Cassian that she almost didn’t hear the twig snap behind her. Whirling around, hatchet raised, she blocked the scythe from slicing her nose off just in time.

The boy from Nine looked angry. He swung the scythe at her again and she ducked, trying to get him in the chest with the hatchet.

“I know you killed Maizy,” he hissed, swiping again.

“The hell are you talking about?” Johanna asked, trying to act confused. She had _kind_ of killed Maizy, but how did Nine know that? Had he been following her the entire time?

“I know what you did,” he said, and Johanna’s stomach dropped. Did he somehow know that she stole the medicine Maizy’s mentor sent her? How had he found out? “You cut her up and watched her die. You sick bitch.”

Johanna decided it was best to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, lunging again and missing, “but you’ve got the wrong person.”

“No, I don’t, District _Seven,”_ he spat. The scythe nicked her upper arm and she jumped back. “Cassian saw everything.”

“Cassian?” she asked incredulously. “That wily little shit? He’s playing you, isn’t that obvious? Dumbass.” Perhaps insulting his intelligence hadn’t been the wisest thing for her to do.

Nine’s eyes narrowed. “He was my ally. I believe him.”

“He’s not your ally anymore, dickhead,” she retorted. “He’s obviously making shit up, because I didn’t kill Maizy.”

She jumped forward again, and stumbled as he jumped back – the forest floor was uneven, and though she would generally be fine walking through forests, her ankle still wasn’t 100%. Her hatchet slipped from her fingertips, and in under ten seconds, Johanna was without her main weapon.

“Fuck,” she said, darting under Nine’s weapon and scrambling away. There was no time to search for the hatchet – she would have to come back for it.

His hands closed tightly around her throat and she gasped, aiming a kick between his legs that fell short. Slamming her against a tree, he raised his scythe above her head, his left hand tightening around her throat so hard that it felt as though he was crushing her windpipe.

Blinking away the stars in front of her eyes, Johanna brought her knee up and slammed it between his legs. With a pained yelp and a string of profanities he dropped her, and she darted away, taking the dagger out of her pocket and trying to hide it from him.

“I didn’t kill Maizy,” she rasped, trying to catch her breath.

Nine shook his head. “I don’t care,” he whispered. “I want to go home.”

He lunged forwards, and this time, Johanna didn’t dart away. This time, she brought her knife up and let it sink into his heart. Blood quickly poured down the dagger and onto her hands. He fell backwards, and Johanna closed her eyes. The cannon boomed, and Johanna pulled the dagger from his chest and stepped back, her heart beating what felt like a million times a second. _I just killed someone, I just killed him, oh my fucking god I just killed him._

Her hands were shaking, and Johanna dropped the knife onto the grass, sinking onto the ground and taking deep, shaky breaths. What would her family be thinking? What would Eurydice think of her, now that she was a murderer?

She didn’t want to think about that now. Wiping the knife on the grass, Johanna avoided looking at the body of the boy from Nine. When the knife was clean, she put it back into her pocket. The blade was warm, and she tried not to shudder.

She slowly made her way over to where she had dropped her hatchet, and put it back into its sling. Maybe the boy from Nine had some supplies she could use – she was running out of food. She didn’t love the idea of touching a corpse, but Nine’s backpack was squished underneath him.

Grabbing Nine’s arm, she rolled him onto his stomach so she could take his backpack. In his bag was a half-empty packet of beef jerky, two apples, and a small bread roll. There was also a first aid kit, a full water bottle, and a knife, which she put into her pocket. Dropping the empty backpack on the ground, Johanna slowly stood up, determinedly avoiding glancing at the still body of the boy from Nine, and trying not to think about what she had just done.

0o0o

Cassian wanted her dead. Obviously, she also wanted Cassian dead, but she was worried that such a clever person was after her – he had sent Scythe after her, telling him tales and feeding him lies. What would he do next? He was clever enough to not have to get his hands dirty. He had used Scythe to try to get to her – and she was pretty sure he had used Maizy to kill the Careers. What would be next?

What unsettled her even more was how Scythe had found her so easily. Had Cassian told him where to go? Did Cassian have eyes on her? Was she being followed without her knowing? _Time to go,_ she decided, climbing down the tree. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but Johanna couldn’t stand sitting there for one more moment – her thoughts kept wandering back to the sound Nine had made before she died, to how it felt to sink the knife into her chest. She didn’t want to think about killing him. She didn’t want to think about the fact she was now a murderer.

She decided to keep walking into the forest – she had no idea where any of the other tributes were, and so it was only a matter of time before she ran into someone. She didn’t want to kill anyone else, but she wanted to be out of the arena as soon as possible. _End this._

Her ankle was starting to hurt again, and Johanna leaned heavily on the branch as she walked. She knew she should probably stop for a break, but she was so scared that she was being followed. _I guess I won’t be sleeping tonight,_ she thought.

The cannon that sounded after night fell brought up a variety of feelings. Johanna was glad she was closer to home, scared of how quickly things were moving, and sickened at the memory of killing the boy from Nine. She couldn’t wait to get back home to her people, to Eurydice – it would be easier for her to sort through her feelings there, with the help of her loved ones. In the meantime, she planned to ignore her emotions and focus on getting home.

The cannon that followed the first was the one that scared Johanna the most – it meant they were in the final four. Who was left, she wondered, wracking her brain. Cassian. The three Career girls. The crazy girl from Ten. Johanna wondered which of them had died – she found herself hoping it was Cassian, and one of the Careers at least. The sooner he was out of the arena, the better. The cannons had been only minutes apart, which told Johanna there had probably been a fight. Soon there would be a Feast, or a horde of mutts chasing them closer to each other, or a (un)natural disaster that killed the least interesting tribute to ensure the Capitol the exciting ending they wanted so dearly. Whatever happened, it would happen soon.

She still didn’t feel up to climbing a tree, even with the miracle bandage – she didn’t want to over-do it, as she had already walked a large distance today. She knew she wouldn’t sleep, but she also knew she had to try. Curling up under a bush, she rested her head on her backpack, her knife in one hand and her hatchet in the other. She closed her eyes and opened them again – the unseeing eyes of Nine had been stamped into the backs of her eyelids.

What was worse, though, was the burning rage she felt. Rage that she had to kill people. Rage that people were trying to kill her. Rage at the Capitol for being a bunch of sick fucks who had nothing better to do than chuck a bunch of kids into an arena and watch them die, one by one.

She was even angry at Magnolia, for sending her that note – _End this._ What the fuck was that about? Didn’t Magnolia know she was trying her best? All Johanna wanted was to go home and be with her Eurydice, but she was here, sleeping in dirt, with flaky blood on her hands from the boy she had just fucking _killed._ She hated everyone and everything.

With a horrible rush of guilt, she realised that she was even angry at Eurydice. _She didn’t even try to volunteer. She didn’t apologise._ Johanna dug her fingernails into her palm. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Eurydice’s fault – of _course_ Johanna didn’t want her in the arena. And certainly not in Johanna’s place. _What’s wrong with me?_ _I’m a shitty person,_ Johanna thought, feeling sick. She probably didn’t deserve to be the Victor. _Let the girl from Four go back to her kid, Johanna,_ she told herself. _You don’t deserve life._

Johanna smacked herself in the forehead, trying to push to flurry of thoughts out of her head. She just fucking hated everything. She wanted so badly to sleep, to escape consciousness for even a few hours, but instead she tossed and turned under the skinny little shrub.

In the end, it was lucky she couldn’t sleep, because if she had been sleeping, she wouldn’t have heard the footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, a cliff-hanger. Love me a good cliff-hanger.
> 
> I’m sorry that this chapter is kinda short and kinda late, I’ve been feeling very uninspired and flat lately. Whenever I sit down to write, I end up watching SNL skits on YouTube for hours upon hours. Which is fun, but extremely unproductive.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Jo’s fully broken her act now, and things are about to move quickly. I’ll try not to drag it out too much, but to be honest I really love torturing you. :D
> 
> Whose footsteps do you think Jo heard?
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)
> 
> PS I'm sorry I haven't been replying to many comments lately, I've kinda not been doing super great mentally lately, but I'm always reading them, and they never fail to make me smile! Love that free serotonin. Thanks guys, love ya!


	25. Broken Chessboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karma is delivered to Cassian, via Johanna's hatchet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Blood Gets Thin by Pete and the Pirates

**Arena, Forest, Day 9 (night): Johanna Mason**

Johanna peeked out from under the bush. Unable to see through the leaves, she moved as close as she dared towards the sound. She spotted a pair of scuffed, dirty shoes – they were small, which told Johanna exactly who had tried to sneak up on her. Hopefully the shoes were connected to a pair of feet.

She grabbed her hatchet and jumped up, tearing through the bush, realising that there was no point in wasting time on subtlety. She had already been found, and if she hadn’t, was about to be.

“Of course it’s you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Of course it’s me,” Cassian agreed, looking a bit shocked at the fact she had appeared out of nowhere. He was trying to stay cool and collected, she could tell, but it wasn’t working for him. His mask was slowly slipping.

“You’re after me, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. After what the boy from Nine had told her, she’d been deeply suspicious of Cassian, but seeing him there in front of her just confirmed that all her worries were true. He _was_ after her. She wondered how long he’d been stalking her – but she didn’t care to ask. The answer would probably serve no purpose other than to creep her out.

Cassian shrugged, not bothering to deny what she already knew. “Yep.”

“Why didn’t you kill me already?” she asked.

“I’ll admit, I was going to slit your throat in your sleep. But it seems that you were awake.”

“Sucks for you,” said Johanna, raising the hatchet, ready to send it flying into his stupid little face. He’d had it coming for a long time.

“Wait!” Cassian cried, putting his hands up over his face, as if that would somehow protect him from a razor-sharp hatchet hurtling towards him. “Don’t kill me, please. I can help you win.” His eyes were darting around him, as though he were looking for a way to escape, somewhere to run. He seemed to sense, however, that the second he turned his back Johanna would bury her hatchet in his spinal cord.

Johanna scoffed. “I think the fuck not. I’m not an idiot, Cassian. You said yourself that you were after me, so don’t think that you can fool me now. I know that if I trust you, you’ll stab me in the back the first chance you get.”

“I promise I won’t,” said Cassian. He looked scared, as though he was regretting his decision to sneak up on her. _And so he should be,_ she thought. His thoughts were written all over his face, clear as day – guilt, fear, and regret, with a bit of worry over whether he had pissed his pants on national TV or not.

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” she said.

Cassian seemed to go through some sort of internal panic. He dropped his knife on the ground, raising his hands to show her he had no more weapons. He was trembling from head to toe; and the growing look of panic on his face told Johanna that he clearly hadn’t thought this part of his plan through well enough. Improvisation clearly wasn’t his cup of tea – his way of playing the game was like chess; calculated moves with only one end goal. Unfortunately for him, Johanna had just broken the chessboard over her knee. She felt a bit sorry for the kid – but she wanted to go home.

“Fool move,” Johanna said, shooting him a grin. “I guess you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

Cassian’s lower lip trembled, and he looked as though he was about to be sick. “Just make it quick. Please.” He had given up far quicker than Johanna thought he would – maybe he was tired, just as she was. Maybe he realised that he couldn’t live with what he had done in the arena. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore.

“Sure.” For a moment, he and Johanna stared silently at each other, his brown eyes meeting her green ones. And then Johanna lifted the hatchet and threw it into Cassian’s chest.

Cassian looked down at it, as if in disbelief, even though he had seen it coming. Perhaps he had thought that Johanna would change her mind, and take mercy on him. Fat chance. “Good shot,” he said weakly, before crumpling to the ground like an autumn leaf.

His cannon followed shortly after, and Johanna was surprised to discover that she felt little remorse over his death. The little shit had tried to kill her after all, sending Scythe out to die at her hand. He had probably sent Maizy out to die, too.

Johanna yanked the hatchet out of Cassian’s chest, grimacing at the sickening crunching noise as the hatchet came free from the body. She looked down at the boy, and a small pang shot through her chest. No matter how cunning or evil Cassian had been, he _had_ just been a child. He wasn’t the enemy. Instead of sadness, Johanna felt angry. She felt that way a lot these days.

There wasn’t much in his bag – evidently, he had been running out of supplies as well. Johanna wondered if he had been planning on stealing her things, after he slit her throat. What would he have thought of the carved wooden bear? Would he have taken the green beaded bracelet from her wrist as well? Someone as smart as Cassian had been probably would have found a use for it. Maybe he would have made it into a slingshot, or something. Maybe he would have eaten the beads, hoping to choke to death on them. Johanna would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of doing the same thing.

In the end it didn’t matter what _might_ have happened. She knew that the finale would come soon – an announcement of a feast, perhaps, or maybe a horde of mutts chasing her closer to the other two tributes that were left. She hadn’t been expecting any sleep, anyway. Packing up her things, Johanna decided to leave the branch she had been using as a walking stick behind. It would only weigh her down, and besides – she wouldn’t need it soon enough. She’d either be dead or in the Capitol, being attended to by the best doctors they had to offer. It wouldn’t be very helpful to her in either scenario.

She picked up Cassian’s knife and put it into the pocket which held the other knives. She was surprised that Cassian didn’t have more supplies on him – when she had run into him after the Bloodbath he had been laden down with supplies. Maybe he had left them behind, thinking he wouldn’t need them. Well, he was right.

Picking up her backpack, Johanna started walking. She had to let the hovercraft take Cassian’s body, and she knew that something would happen soon, whether that be a Feast or an earthquake or a horde of those demented bears – whatever it was, it would bring the final three together for the finale.

“Attention tributes!” Johanna froze in her tracks. She wasn’t surprised at the announcement – she had known there would be a feast or something coming soon. “You are invited to a Feast which will be held at the Cornucopia tomorrow morning. The Capitol has picked out a gift for each of you – gifts you would be remiss to miss out on. We hope to see each of you there.”

Johanna caught onto the meaning hidden in Claudius Templesmith’s words. _Be there, or fucken die._ She didn’t want to fucken die, so she began to retrace her steps as well as she could. She knew the Cornucopia was close – it was near the lake, which was a bit of a hike away from where she was. But she knew she had to get there, and soon – there was probably only a couple of hours left until sunup, and she didn’t want to be late and encounter whichever fate the Gamemakers had planned for the latecomers. She sped up her pace, ignoring the burning feeling in her lungs.

Killing Cassian had been easier than killing the boy from Nine. Maybe it was because she already had some sort of a grudge towards Cassian, as he had sent Nine after her. She thought that was extremely cowardly of him – clever, yes, but cowardly. She didn’t see the point in letting other people fight for you _– if you want someone dead, you should do it yourself,_ she thought. And then he had planned to kill her while she slept, which was the cherry on top of an already cowardly track record.

Cassian was dangerous, and she was glad he was dead. She did feel sorry for him, as he was so young, but she didn’t let herself spend too much time dwelling on his death. She had other things to think of, after all. Soon the Games would end, and Johanna would be on her way out of the arena in some way or another, whether that be as a corpse or as a shell of her former self – she wasn’t sure which was worse. She had thought she would feel more anxious about the ending, but Johanna was just glad that soon it would be all over. She was so tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh, dear readers.
> 
> Ngl, I’m actually sad that Cassian’s dead. Yeah, he was kind of a terrible person and everything, but he was really fun to write, and I really enjoyed his chapters. I hope you did too.
> 
> I’m sorry this chapter took so long, and I’m also sorry that it’s kind of short. I’ve been super unmotivated and haven’t written anything for days. I’ve also been working on an art project for school, I made a doll and have been painting it. It’s very tedious work because I’m quite impatient when it comes to art and I always end up smudging the paint because I can’t stand waiting for it to dry. Anyway, that’s unrelated and you don’t care.
> 
> I’m working on the next chapter now, it’s a bit different to the other chapters but hopefully you like it. I don’t want to say anything else in case I spoil it.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	26. Delmare: Cruel Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delmare and Minnow hope for Marin to come home to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Do You by Carina Round

**District Four, the Cottage by the Sea: Delmare Callahan**

Their house had always been a peaceful place, always quiet, always with the sound of the ocean in the background. Del thought that sound was her favourite sound in the world – there was nothing more peaceful than the ocean, constant and uncaring about the lives of the humans that lived from it. There was something comforting about knowing that the ocean was a force untainted by the Games, untouched by most of Panem. It didn’t care about the Capitol, or the Games, or the people of Panem, and Del liked that. It felt separate from their lives, even though it was constantly present.

The house wasn’t as homely now that Marin wasn’t there. It wasn’t that it felt empty – there was still Del and Minnow and all the stuff their family had acquired over the years. It was far from empty. But it was eerie – Del hadn’t realised how comforting Marin’s presence was. Minnow felt it too, Del could tell. She hadn’t been sleeping through the night, she’d been throwing her food on the ground instead of eating it, she didn’t giggle as often. She missed her mama, and Del missed her sister.

There was one less pair of feet to patter against the stones of the floor. One less set of lungs, breathing in the salty air. Those things didn’t seem as though they’d make much noise, but now the difference was all that Del could notice. She felt lonely, even though she still had Minnow.

She had taken to keeping the television on at all times, putting Minnow in her highchair and turning her away so she couldn’t see what was on the screen. Even though the TV was on mute, the sight of her little sister’s face was a comfort to Del. They didn’t have many photos – a few lined the hallway, from when she and Marin were children, and a few of Minnow and their parents, but photos were usually so expensive that they didn’t bother with them.

Minnow burbled from the highchair, painting the tray with the mushy tesserae grain instead of eating it. Del didn’t blame her – the stuff was revolting. They didn’t have much else at the moment, though. “Minnie, no, you have to eat it,” Del told her, trying to get her to eat a spoonful, pretending it was a hovercraft flying towards Minnow’s mouth. “Look, a hovercraft! Open up!” The baby refused, turning her head to the side and blowing a raspberry. She hadn’t been a fussy eater, until Marin had gone.

“Mama,” Minnow said, twisting around in her seat and pointing at the TV. There was a rerun of the interviews, and they were showing Marin’s – she was the current favourite to win, so there was a lot of footage being rerun of her interview and the chariots, as well as the Reaping. There was footage of the other two tributes too – the actress from Seven, and the crazy girl from Ten – but it was mainly Marin. Del was glad about that – her baby sister was sure to have a tonne of sponsors. And as soon as she got over her slight mental breakdown after the deaths of her allies, Marin would be lethal.

Del picked Minnow up. “Yeah, sweetie, that’s Mama.”

“Mama?” Minnow said again, gesturing at the TV with a pudgy little hand.

“She’ll be home soon, sweetie,” Del told her, turning her away from the TV in case they showed a killing scene.

Minnow started to cry. Feeling tears pricking her own eyes, Del rocked the child as soothingly as she could, patting her bum and humming. All songs had somehow disappeared from Del’s mind, so the humming was mostly just disconnected notes, but she was trying her best. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Minnie. Mama will be home soon.”

Del hoped that Marin could win. Her little sister was strong, physically and mentally – she could do it, surely? She had been amazing so far anyway, killing the girl from District Two who had, until her death, had the highest odds of winning. The other tributes were also strong, though. Putting the baby down on the rug, Del began to wash the dishes, trying not to think of the possibility that her sister might not win. Del knew they wouldn’t survive if Marin died – they didn’t have enough money to support one person, let alone one person and a baby. She wouldn’t be able to work, she wouldn’t get any income – and most of all, Del would miss her sister.

There was a thud as a tree branch hit the window, and Del jumped, dropping a handful of cutlery into the sink. It clattered into the sink, and Del squeezed the rest of the dishwashing liquid into the warm water. _I’ll have to buy some more,_ she thought, before realising they wouldn’t be able to afford it. Del sighed, and put down the sponge, wiping her hands on a tea-towel before picking up the bowl of grain and holding it up for Minnow to see. “Do you want to finish your dinner, bub?”

Minnow didn’t reply, too busy chewing on a blanket. Del laughed. “Oh, so you’ll eat a blanket quite happily, but not the dinner I prepared for you? Fine. You ratbag.”

Images from the Bloodbath flashed onto the TV, and Del reached for the remote to switch it off before Minnow could turn around and see. It wasn’t as though she would understand what she saw on the screen – but Del didn’t want her to know about the Games any earlier than she absolutely had to.

“Mama,” said Minnow again, starting to cry. She didn’t understand, and Del’s heart ached for the baby. She was so confused.

“She’s not here, sweetie,” Del said, trying not to cry with the child. “She’ll come home soon.”

Minnow stared at her, big eyes reproachful, still clutching a corner of the blanket in her chubby little fist. “Don’t look at me like that,” Del said, “she will.” _She has to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve wanted to write a chapter featuring Delmare ever since I came up with her character. Sorry it’s so short – I seem to be saying that a lot lately. I promise there are longer chapters waiting in the future.
> 
> I’m sorry it’s short and I’m sorry it took a while for me to update, I’ve been having a pretty rough time lately. We had to put our old dog, Bug, down on the weekend and I’m finding it hard to deal with as he’s been around for my entire life, my parents got him before I was born. At least he’s happy and in dog heaven now.
> 
> I hope you’re all well, and have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	27. Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna is unexpectedly forced into an alliance with Marin and Natania.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: I Want the World to Stop by Belle and Sebastian

**Arena, Random Tree near the Cornucopia, Day 10: Johanna Mason**

Johanna had walked for hours, and her lungs burned. It was still dark, but the sun had begun to peek over the horizon, filling the arena with a thin golden light that wasn’t quite yet able to cancel out the darkness. Wheezing, Johanna leaned against a tree and took a swig of water. Her stomach churned, and she wasn’t sure whether that was from nerves, or from the hike. It was probably both. There was no sight of anyone else, and Johanna was glad. She knew that she had to rest before the final fight – she was in no condition to fight anyone, let alone fight anyone and win. She could only hope that the other girls were as exhausted as she was, it would make her job a whole lot easier.

Looking around, Johanna selected a tree that would give her a good view of the fields around the Cornucopia without exposing her to her opponents. She needed somewhere to hide for a few hours, somewhere to rest, and the tree was as good as any.

She realised that her hands were shaking, and Johanna took a deep, steadying breath. She was terrified for what was to come – she didn’t want to die. There were so many things she still wanted to do. She wanted to hug Rowan again – Rowan gave the best hugs. She wanted to play with Bear. She wanted to go for hikes in the forest with her parents. She wanted to sneak food to Cubby under the table, wanted to see that little tail wag again. She wanted to thank Magnolia. She wanted to spend more time with Eurydice – she wanted to spend _all_ of her time with Eurydice. When she got back home, Johanna knew that she didn’t want Eurydice to leave her side. _She can live with me in the Victor’s Village,_ thought Johanna, dreaming of a future in which she would never have to leave Eurydice behind again.

Johanna wasn’t sure about a lot of things, but she knew for sure that she didn’t want to die. She probably deserved to, but no one who had survived this far deserved to win any more or any less than she did. Anyone who had survived to the final three was sure to have done bad things, was sure to have killed people or double-crossed them or both. That was just how it worked in the arena. Johanna knew that if she survived, the guilt would never to leave her – but if guilt meant she was alive and with her loved ones, she thought it was a small price to pay.

“Dryads, give me strength,” she murmured. She wasn’t sure it would do anything, but she would take all the help she could get, even if that help came from probably uncaring and probably non-existent entities.

Twisting her green beaded bracelet around her wrist, Johanna thought of her mother. She hadn’t thought about her mother much – most of her thoughts were about Eurydice – but right now, there was no-one Johanna wanted more than her mother. She wanted to be hugged, and cradled like a baby, safe and warm in someone’s arms. “Are you watching, Mom?” Johanna said, as loudly as she dared. There was no response, of course, but Johanna felt slightly comforted in the knowledge that the ones she loved were probably watching her.

At this point in the Games, no-one slept, especially not the tributes’ loved ones. She could imagine them now, all of them squeezed onto the small couch in their house, eyes glued to the tiny TV. Bear would be sitting, half-asleep, on Rowan’s lap, and she would be absent-mindedly playing with his hair. Mom would be sitting in her usual spot, her feet up on the rickety old coffee table, probably chewing her nails. Da would be hovering, sitting down for a moment before getting up again, to clean the table or get a glass of water or add another log to the fireplace – anything but sitting still. Maybe Eurydice would be there with them too, chatting quietly with Rowan about school, work, anything but what was on the screen.

She could see them all so clearly in her mind – if she closed her eyes, she was there with them, watching some other poor girl that wasn’t her on the TV. She could smell Eurydice’s perfume, she could smell the smoke from the fire, smell Bear’s unwashed hair and the scent of pine-flour bread in the kitchen. Johanna hadn’t been expecting homesickness to physically hurt, but it did – she ached, all over, wanting nothing more than to be back at home with her people. _Soon,_ she told herself. _Only two more people, and I can go home._

0o0o

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she opened her eyes to the bright sun beating down on her, Johanna knew that a few hours at least had passed. It was late morning, by the look of it – and she hadn’t yet heard so much as a peep from her opponents. Where were they? Had the feast started without her?

She hadn’t been back here since the Bloodbath – she could see now, in the light, that she was around the spot Eulalie had died, an arrow sticking out of her back. Johanna shuddered at the memory – it was eerie how the kid had toppled over, like a lone domino, all the fight instantly gone from her body.

Johanna wondered why nobody had shown up yet, and why there was no sign of the promised feast starting. Maybe there wasn’t to be a feast at all. Maybe the Gamemakers had lied, had just wanted to get the final three tributes near each other. A feast in the Games could mean anything, after all Sometimes it meant a heck of a lot of food, sometimes it meant a single loaf of bread, and sometimes it meant a pile of lethal weapons. Sometimes it just meant bloodshed. There was really no telling what it could be – in any case, Johanna hoped that Marin and Natania would show up soon. Her legs were cramping, and her back ached from the awkward position she had fallen asleep in, half-leaning back on the trunk, half-slumped over another branch.

She heard the sound of a parachute and looked up, reaching her hands out to catch it. It was small. Opening it up, Johanna smiled. A small, steaming container of pale brown broth, and a single, chocolate-covered strawberry. Slurping up the broth, Johanna read the note that had come with the gift. _Remember your training, and remember that there are people back home who need you. I won’t wish you luck, because you don’t need luck when you have skill. You can win this. Magnolia._

The soup didn’t feel like a last meal. It wasn’t very filling, for one thing – it was probably meant to give her a boost of energy, which was almost certainly what the strawberry was meant to do. It left her wanting more to eat, which Johanna decided was a good thing. She wouldn’t get a stitch, and the hunger would keep her on her toes. It wasn’t a good idea to fight with a stomach full of rocks.

The strawberry was the most delicious thing Johanna had tasted since she had entered the arena. Protein bars and random green things were getting really boring, not to mention unsatisfying. _When I get out of here, I’m going to stuff my face._

She wanted to work on the little wooden bear while she waited, but decided it wasn’t such a good idea. She would have to keep an eye out for any sign of movement as all, as she didn’t know when anyone would show up, and she certainly didn’t want to be the first. That would put her in an extremely vulnerable position – she didn’t want to be exposed, without knowing where her enemies were or when they might show up. It was a terrible idea all around.

Johanna didn’t know what to do with herself – she was the awful combination of bored and anxious for what was to come. Carving her name into the tree, Johanna felt tempted to carve some insults towards the Capitol too, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. Her name was bright against the bark, the pale green of the tree's flesh contrasting sharply with the dark bark. She wasn't sure why she did that - but it felt good to leave a physical mark on the world. Even if that mark was only her name carved into a tree, it was proof that she had existed. Even if she died, her name would stay carved into the tree forever.

A sudden yell made Johanna jump in fright, and she grabbed a branch, leaning forwards to peek out of the tree.

 _There they are,_ she thought smugly. Marin was being chased across the field by the girl from Ten – Natania, Johanna reminded herself – towards the Cornucopia. Johanna could see Marin’s face from where she was sitting – she was pleased to see that her expression was terrified, mouth agape and eyes wide. Natania’s cutlass was gleaming, and seemed to be covered in dried blood. For a moment, Johanna thought that Ten’s eyes were wide with excitement – and then she realised that Natania’s expression of terror matched Marin’s perfectly. And now that they were getting closer, she could see that Natania wasn’t chasing Marin – rather, she was running with her.

“Oh my god!” Marin shrieked, glancing over her shoulder for a second before running even faster. Johanna strained her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of what her opponents were running from, but she heard them before she saw them. The grunts, the pounding of heavy feet, the roars of delusional, unnatural rage. It was the bears. And they weren’t just following Marin and Natania, either – two of them were headed straight for Johanna’s tree.

“Fuck,” she hissed, panicking for a moment. _What should I do?_ The Gamemakers obviously wanted an exciting final fight. She had the feeling that the bears wouldn’t leave until one of the tributes had died – and currently, Johanna was the one at the most risk, by being boring and hugging a tree. She knew what she had to do – she had to climb down and kill either Marin or Natania, because otherwise she would be the dead one.

Throwing her hatchet over her shoulder, Johanna scrambled down the tree and took off, darting into the forest. It would be stupid to run out onto the field directly – the bears would easily outrun her before she made it to her opponents, ad then she would be dead meat. Literally. She had more chance in the forest, she was faster in the forest, and there were far more things to hide behind in the forest. There was no question about which direction she should take.

Jumping over a shrub, Johanna heard a series of crashed which told her that the bears had burst through the trees. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she screeched, running even faster. She was running faster than she had run for days – had she not been wearing the bandage, her ankle would be dead. _That’s going to hurt like a bitch later,_ she thought, realising that if she was dead, a sore ankle would be the least of her concerns.

“Hey!” she shrieked, darting out of the forest and waving her hatchet in the air as a greeting. “Hey, bitches, I’m here!”

The two girls glanced at her – Natania’s mouth stretched into a grin, and Marin’s mouth trembled. “Hello, sweetie-pie,” Natania said. Johanna scowled at her. _Why the fuck’s she calling me sweetie-pie?_

“Help us,” Marin said to Johanna, and gestured at the bears. “They want us to fight.” Johanna understood that ‘they’ were the Gamemakers. Why else had the bears not ripped at least one of them to pieces by now?

Marin and Natania were back to back, their weapons raised. The bears had paused, and Johanna knew that they were waiting for her – the Gamemakers wanted the three of them to work together? It didn’t make much sense to her, but she wasn’t one to disobey the Gamemakers. The Gamemakers got to play God in the arena, and Johanna didn’t love the idea of being smote.

Johanna joined the circle, and the second she did, the bears began to lunge. Johanna shrieked, and began hacking away with her axe. A bear swiped at her, and she threw herself onto the ground, slashing the side of the bear’s stomach with her longest dagger – Nine’s dagger – and cringing when the bear’s guts fell out in a steaming, bloody pile. She could hear the screams of the other girls as they fought, and turned around, slamming her axe into a bear’s head before it could decapitate her.

“You know,” she shouted to her temporary allies. “I think if one of us were to die, the bears would leave.” She didn’t know why Marin and Natania hadn’t just killed each other when they had the chance – it would have made a whole lot more sense than waiting around for Johanna to turn up.

“The Gamemakers want us to fight them, I think!” Marin replied, stabbing a bear in the throat and stomach repeatedly. It howled, and fell to the ground with a thundering crash.

“You think?” Johanna scoffed. It was pretty obvious. There was a momentary lull in the bears attacking her, and Johanna took a second to watch her opponents. Marin was a dodger, ducking skilfully under claws and attacking from behind. She was quick on her feet, too. Natania was brutal, cutting off heads and legs with single swipes. Johanna knew that she would have a better chance against Marin – she was closer in height to the girl from Four, and her speed wasn’t matched by her strength. Natania was not someone Johanna wanted to fight, because she would come out of it with at least one fewer limb than she had woken up with.

Johanna felt a sharp sting on her side, and gasped – a bear had swiped her waist before she had had the chance to defend herself. Blood quickly soaked her shirt, and Johanna knew without looking that the wound was deep. But there was no time yet to take care of it. She stabbed the bear between the eyes before it could get her again. The bears were being oddly polite, and weren’t putting up as much of a fight – they seemed to be taking turns to attack, one after the other. It made zero sense, and Johanna would have laughed at how ridiculous they looked if she wasn’t scared of being sliced into shreds.

 _Will the bears leave the final two alone?_ She wondered. Surely they would – the Capitol wanted a proper fight, an exciting one. They always loved the final showdown, the final death match between the two surviving tributes – if the Gamemakers had sent the bears, they had two tributes in mind for the finale. _Who has the most bears attacking them?_ She hit another bear in the spine with her hatchet before glancing at her opponents again. Each of them had a fair few bears out to get them, but she noticed that Natania had the most. _They don’t want her to win._ It made sense – the Capitol wanted Victors that were mostly sane. And the bears weren’t there to kill her – the Gamemakers wouldn’t do Johanna’s job for her, after all.

Johanna knew what she had to do. The bears were mostly dead, and soon they would be completely gone – and Natania had to die. Taking a running leap, Johanna latched onto the girl from ten, grabbing a handful of her hair and wrapping her legs around her waist, pinning Natania’s arms to her side so she couldn’t turn around and stab Johanna in the guts. Natania growled, trying to get her arms free, but Johanna squeezed tighter. Shrieking as Natania desperately tried to shake her off and onto the ground, Johanna yanked Natania’s head back, a fistful of dark, greasy hair tangled around her fingers.

Natania breathed in quickly, and Johanna could hear the fear in the sharp intakes of air – but now was not the time to be kind. Holding the struggling girl’s head as steady as possible, Johanna lined up her knife with Natania’s temple, taking a deep breath before slamming her knife into the side of Natania’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so yeah you probably hate me right now. Sorry about that. I decided to split the finale into part one and part two because I thought that would make it flow better. And to torture you, lol. Anyway, bye bye my friends, Audrey out :) have a good day and stuff, I’m gonna go have a nap


	28. Red Ruby Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna ends it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: September Song by Agnes Obel (please, this song is just… just listen to it)

**The Arena, Cornucopia Fields, Day 10: Johanna Mason**

There was a sickening crunch as Johanna’s knife plunged straight through Natania’s skull and into her brain. The crazy girl from Ten didn’t even have time to scream before her cannon boomed, the second last cannon that the 71st arena would ever hear. She was dead before she hit the ground, and Johanna rolled off Natania’s lifeless body. She tugged the dagger from Natania’s skull – it came free with a horrible sucking noise. Johanna gagged, and wiped the blade on the grass. She tried hard not to look at the mushy chunks of brain that clung to the blade, but kept looking anyway, feeling sick.

The few bears still living turned around and walked away into the forest. Surprised at their sudden disappearance, Marin whirled around, daggers raised, her eyes steely and determined. “What –“ she said, before her eyes widened. “Oh!”

“They wanted it to be us,” Johanna said, wiping the sweat from her brow and trying to forget the sound of the blade sinking into Natania’s head – it wasn’t a sound she would be forgetting anytime soon, she knew that. “The Gamemakers, they wanted us to be the final two.”

“Why?” Marin wondered aloud, taking a step back from Natania’s body, breathing heavily and sweating as much as Johanna was.

“She’s crazy, isn’t she? They don’t want a crazy Victor. And she was up the fuckin’ tree,” Johanna said.

“Good point.”

The two girls stared at each other for a moment, both of them panting. Johanna wondered if Marin was going to attack her, or if she would have to make the first move. “So,” Marin said, straightening up and twisting to each side so her spine cracked. “I guess we should probably kill each other, huh?”

“I guess so,” Johanna said, though neither of them made any move. There was about three metres between them, and Marin’s eyes were flickering around – Johanna could tell that she was taking in the terrain, sizing Johanna up. Preparing for the fight that would end it all.

There was a beeping from above, and they both looked up – two parachutes, floating down towards them. They both reached up to grab them. Opening the parachute, Johanna took out the note first. _What are you waiting for? Magnolia._ In the parachute was a small, ice cold drink bottle, and Johanna licked her dry lips – she hadn’t realised how parched she was, with the exertion of the fight and the sun beating down.

“What’d you get?” she asked Marin, after gulping down half the water in the bottle.

“Same as you. Cold water. Ahhhh,” she said, taking a long slurp.

They looked at each other again, and Johanna could see the cogs turning in the girl from Four’s mind, as her eyes jumped from the blood-covered hatchet, to Natania, to the pile of dead bears. “I really don’t want to kill you,” said Johanna.

“I don’t want to kill you, either.”

“So don’t,” said Johanna, shrugging. If only it was that easy.

“Well, I could say the same thing to you,” Marin retorted. Johanna grinned at her. She liked the girl from Four – it was a pity they hadn’t had the chance to talk before now, though of course it wouldn’t have been possible – she had had to act like a sook, after all. But Johanna found herself thinking that Marin would be a good friend, if they didn’t have to kill each other.

“What’s your name?” asked Marin, and Johanna blinked, surprised at the question.

“Johanna,” said Johanna.

Marin gave her a smile, and Johanna wished she would stop being so friendly – it would only make it harder to kill her. “I’m Marin.”

“I know who you are,” Johanna replied. “They love you in the Capitol.”

The grass around them was slick with blood – both the blood from the bears and the blood pooling around Natania’s head – and Johanna knew that it was a terrible place to fight. The risk of slipping over was just too great.

“I don’t want to fight you here,” said Johanna. “It’s too slippery.”

“Good point. You go first,” Marin offered, gesturing.

Johanna scoffed. “Not a chance. How do I know you won’t stab me from behind?”

“Okay, well I’m not going first for the same reason.”

“Well, you’ll have to, because I’m not going first and I’m also not going to fight you here.”

“I don’t trust you,” said Marin, with narrowed eyes.

“Congratulations. I don’t trust you either.”

They grinned at each other again. Johanna began walking slowly backwards, her eyes never leaving Marin’s. Slowly stepping over the dead bears, Johanna made her way to a clear patch of grass – grass that was green, instead of scarlet. “Happy?” she said, shaking her hands around sarcastically. She took off her backpack, and dumped it on the grass – she wouldn’t need it anymore. It would do nothing but slow her down.

“Incredibly so,” Marin replied, equally sarcastically. Slowly, she stepped over the dead bears and Natania, and stood a couple of metres back from where Johanna stood, following Johanna’s lead and dumping her bag on the ground.

“Prepare to die, I guess,” said Johanna. She twisted the green beaded bracelet around her wrist – it was comforting. It reminded her of what was waiting for her, behind the walls of the arena.

“Yeah, same to you,” Marin said, brushing back strands of mousy hair that had come loose from her ponytail. She raised her arms into a fighting stance that Johanna recognised from training. “I never thought it would be you. Everyone thought you were pathetic.”

“Well, surprise,” Johanna replied, gripping her hatchet tighter. “Are you gonna fight me, or what?”

Marin’s first knife whizzed through the air, and Johanna ducked, feeling it fly over where her head had been and heard a thud as it found its mark in a tree. “You’ll have to do better than that,” Johanna taunted, and Marin flushed red. Johanna was pleased – if she could get Marin flustered, she wouldn’t think as clearly.

Gripping her hatchet in one hand, and the dagger she used to kill Natania in the other, Johanna lunged forward, swinging the axe around her head towards Marin’s chest. Stepping back, Marin dodged the blow, before leaping forwards and attempting to stab Johanna in the stomach. Johanna countered with another blow towards Marin with the hatchet, and there was a clang as the metal of their weapons met.

“You’re good,” Johanna said, ducking under Marin’s knife again.

“So are you,” Marin replied, jumping forwards, dagger raised.

This time Johanna wasn’t so lucky – the dagger caught her arm and she yelped as the metal dug into her flesh. “Shit,” she hissed, ducking under Marin’s following strike. She swung the axe around, hoping that it would distract Marin from the dagger in her other hand – it did.

Marin let out a screech as the dagger sunk into her shoulder. She yanked it out, and threw it at Johanna, who ducked. The smell of fresh, coppery blood mixed with the crisp scent of grass – it was a strange smell indeed, and one that Johanna hoped she would never have to smell again.

 _Lead her into the forest._ The thought came out of nowhere – it was if someone had spoken directly into Johanna’s ear. She wasn’t about to refuse help, especially if it came from her subconscious – she and Marin were fairly evenly matched in terms of fighting. She mentally thanked Magnolia for the long hours of training she and Eurydice had had to endure – it was paying off.

They weren’t far from the forest – the trees began perhaps ten metres from where they fought. Johanna wasn’t sure how to lead Marin into the forest without being suspicious – but then again, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t as though there was a long line of assailants waiting in the trees to kill her.

She lunged at Marin again, surprised at her own strength as the hatchet swung through the air, only barely missing Marin’s extended left arm. The girl from Four jumped back, surprised, and Johanna took the chance, stumbling slightly, as the momentum from the swinging hatchet had moved her balance forwards.

Johanna turned and ran, zig-zagging her way to the cover of the trees. She knew that Marin would have no choice but to follow her. She heard another dagger fly past her ear, and grinned – there was no way that the girl from Four had an infinite number of knives. She would soon exhaust her supply and be left without a weapon, if only Johanna could get her to keep throwing them – though she probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for that.

Johanna could hear the footsteps of her opponent quickly approaching. She ducked behind a small tree, and peeked out from behind it – Marin seemed unsure of the forest, which was what Johanna had hoped for. The forest was Johanna’s land – she knew it as well as she knew the back of her own hand. And just as Johanna wouldn’t fare well on the sand of the beach, Marin didn’t fare well on the uneven forest floor.

“Come on,” Marin said, the nerves in her voice apparent. She looked around, and slowly circled the little patch of forest – she was scared. “Stop wasting time, Johanna, and let’s get this over with.”

Johanna decided to let Marin wait it out a little longer – the more time she took, the more nervous Marin would get. And the more nervous Marin got, the less rational she would be when Johanna did decide to fight.

Marin’s breathing was quickening, and Johanna could sense her panic growing. There was a rustle of leaves as a bird took off into flight, and Marin jumped in fright, whirling around with her daggers raised, her back to Johanna.

Johanna decided to take the opportunity. She snuck out from behind the tree, creeping silently over the ground, thankful for growing up in District Seven, where she learnt to be silent. She lifted her hatchet, and brough it down just as Marin turned around. Maybe Johanna hadn’t been as quiet as she thought, or maybe Marin had sensed her – either way, it hadn’t done the girl from Four much good. The hatchet sliced clean through her wrist, and Marin’s right hand fell to the ground, resembling a dead spider, with its slender, pale fingers curled up like motionless legs.

Marin looked at her wrist, spurting blood, and started screaming. “Oh my god, oh my god!” Her face was speckled with blood, like little ruby freckles. Johanna couldn’t help but be reminded of Maizy, and grimaced.

Marin didn’t get too much time to mourn her hand, however, and was forced to block Johanna’s hatchet again before Johanna’s next strike took off her head.

“Come on, Marin,” Johanna said, slashing at Marin’s throat with her dagger and missing. “Let’s end this.”

Marin’s face was milk-white, with a slight green tinge, as though she was about to throw up. She was slowing down, Johanna realised happily – Johanna had the upper hand. Literally.

The girl from Four, to her credit, was just as adept at throwing with her left hand as she was with her right. The dagger zipped past Johanna’s arm, carving a deep line into her flesh before disappearing into the underbrush. It had only narrowly missed sinking into Johanna’s radial artery. Marin groaned – whether from frustration or pain, Johanna wasn’t sure. She jumped forwards, stabbing wildly with a slightly desperate scream, and Johanna twisted out of the way, swinging her axe around towards Marin’s neck. Marin dodged, dropping into a roll. She tried to slash Johanna’s Achilles tendons, but Johanna was able to kick the dagger out of her hand – her second kick connected with Marin’s nose, which broke with a crunch and a fresh spurt of blood. Yelping in pain, Marin scrambled to her feet and stabbed at Johanna’s head. She was forced to relent to block Johanna’s hatchet before it took her left hand as well. Johanna noticed that Marin was looking increasingly dizzy.

Johanna was frustrated that even with one less hand, Marin was still a talented fighter. The girl from Four was just as quick as she was, and also had years of illegal training under her belt – Johanna could tell. Johanna decided to lead Marin further into the forest – the girl from Four was quickly losing blood, and wouldn’t have the chance to tend to her wounds, Johanna knew. If she could continue to weaken her opponent, the final fight would be easier.

Johanna twisted around trees and bushes, and could hear Marin crashing ungracefully through the undergrowth, shrieking occasionally as the motion of running shook her poor, dead arm. “Stop it!”

Smiling to herself, Johanna huddled behind a bush, watching silently through the leaves as Marin looked around, unsure of where Johanna had gone. She turned around, and her eyes widened as she spotted Johanna, crouching in a bush. “Shit,” Johanna whispered, and leapt to her feet. She began to run, but had forgotten, in her haste, to zig-zag – Marin’s dagger hit her in the back of the shoulder.

“Fuck!” Johanna screamed. The pain was burning and intense, and she wanted so desperately to reach over and yank the knife out of her shoulder, but knew that with it, blood would start to flow. She didn’t know if it had hit a vein or an artery, and didn’t want to risk losing any more blood.

“Stop running!” Marin was almost crying as she caught up to Johanna, her voice thick with blood and tears. “Please.” Her once-beautiful face was pale and sunken, her cheeks hollow and her eyes empty. Johanna couldn’t help but feel sorry for her opponent – she could tell that the girl from Four wanted to go home just as much as she did.

“Okay,” said Johanna. _Maybe if I can distract her…_ “Let’s do this, shall we?”

“Best idea I’ve heard in weeks.”

Johanna whistled, and glanced at Marin’s wrist, which was still spurting copious amounts of blood. “That’s a lot of blood.”

Marin scowled, her voice slightly nasal from the broken nose. “Yeah, no thanks to-“

The hatchet sailed through the air and sunk into Marin’s abdomen with a squelching thud, cutting her off mid-sentence. It stayed buried in Marin’s stomach for a second before falling onto the ground with a _thunk_ , and a torrent of blood followed it, staining Marin’s shirt scarlet immediately. Marin gasped, and staggered backwards, and looked up at Johanna incredulously, as though she couldn’t believe what had happened. The dagger fell from her shaking hand, and she toppled over onto her back.

Johanna rushed to her side. Her heart was pounding in her chest – had she done it? Could she go home to Eurydice now? Had she won?

Marin trembled, looking small and scared where she lay. She reached for Johanna’s hand. Johanna took it, and squeezed, not sure how to comfort the dying girl. “Don’t wanna die,” she said, and coughed. Blood trickled from the corners of her mouth, and Johanna wiped it away, but only succeeded in smearing the stuff over Marin’s cheeks. “Wanna go home to my baby.”

“It’s okay,” Johanna whispered, her throat thick with tears as she realised what she had done. _Did I really just orphan a little baby?_ She had forgotten that Marin had a kid. She had been so busy thinking about her own loved ones, that she had forgotten that Marin had people of her own.

Marin let go of Johanna’s hand, and reached into her jacket, taking out a small rag doll and a folded piece of paper from the inside breast pocket. “Nine girl’s,” Marin said, handing Johanna the dirty little doll. Johanna took it, and put it in her pocket – had the doll been what Maizy had frantically searched her pockets for, when Johanna had come across her in the woods?

Marin attempted to unfold the photo, but dropped it as her hand was shaking too badly. Picking it up, Johanna unfolded it, her hands shaking just as much as Marin’s. She glanced at the photo, before turning it around so Marin could see. It pictured a dimpled little baby, with rosy cheeks and big eyes, clutching a handful of sand.

Marin smiled, her teeth tinged slightly pink from her blood. “That’s my sweet little girl,” she whispered. “That’s my Minnow.”

“She’s beautiful,” said Johanna sincerely. “She looks like you.”

Marin smiled again, a small, sad smile, and gazed at the photograph. Tears trickled from her eyes, dripping down the sides of her face and creating tiny puddles of mud in the dirt where they fell.

Johanna tried to control the shaking in her hands, and held the photo steady so that Marin could look at her little girl as she died.

Her breath came in short, sharp, rattling gasps, and they slowed as each second passed – Johanna didn’t know whether it would be kinder to slit Marin’s throat and let death take her immediately, but she needed to hold the photo with both hands as she shook so badly she knew she would drop it without the extra support. Marin took a final rattling breath, and gazed up at the photograph. Johanna watched her face – she saw what looked like a final flicker of light in Marin’s face before her eyes turned to glass, still staring up at the picture of her little girl.

The final cannon of the 71st Hunger Games sounded, and Johanna gulped down the scream bubbling in her throat. She slowly stood, her legs shaking uncontrollably, and barely heard Claudius Templesmith as he announced her as the Victor. A blinding, red-hot rage was trickling into Johanna’s veins, and she couldn’t think of anything else. In that moment, Johanna didn’t give a shit that she had won.

“Fuck!” she screeched, grabbing handfuls of her hair and tearing them out. The pain was good, but it only lasted for a second – Johanna wished, for a moment, that there was someone still alive so she could inflict her anger upon them, or so that they could kill her and release her from this cruel misery. She had just killed someone’s mother – and a little girl would grow up without ever knowing the young woman who had loved her so.

And it was all Johanna’s fault. She screamed, and found herself clutching the hatchet, still dripping with Marin’s blood – she sent it hurtling into a tree with another scream of anger. The world was tinted red, and Johanna could think of nothing but President Snow – for it was his fault, all his fault, that Johanna was in this position. She bit her tongue so hard as to stop herself from verbally abusing the Capitol that she was surprised she hadn’t bitten the whole thing off.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she shrieked, and began kicking at a tree as hard as she possibly could – she heard a series of snaps as several of her toes broke, but the pain barely registered. Her chest felt as though it would explode, and Johanna longed for someone to kill her – she longed for Marin to come back to life and stab her through the heart that was beating pure rage through Johanna’s bruised body.

She could hear the hovercraft that was meant to collect her, but Johanna didn’t care. She would stay in the arena and rot, all by herself, with only the ghosts of the dead children to keep her company. It was what she deserved – she didn’t think she would ever be able to look another person in the face again. Certainly not Eurydice – her girlfriend was the best person Johanna knew, and how would she react, knowing that Johanna had taken a mother away from her child? Johanna screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and her throat felt raw and red and bloody but still she kept screaming. She didn’t know what else to do – the cyclone of feelings pulsing through her body was too much to bear, and Johanna thought she might die.

She pounded her fists on the tree, and felt her skin shred a little bit more with each hit. The hovercraft was closer now – she heard rustling behind her, and knew that they were taking Marin. Johanna didn’t care to look. She was scared that if she stopped hitting the tree, she would try to kill herself – in that moment, it was all she wanted to do. She didn’t think she deserved to live any longer.

She felt a sharp sting in her back, and wondered if she had been stung by a bee. Suddenly, she found that she couldn’t raise her fists anymore, and slumped to the ground, all the feeling gone from her legs. “No…” she mumbled, feeling several pairs of hands on her, lifting her from the ground and up, up, up. “No!” she tried to say, and tried desperately to slap the hands away. Where were they taking her? Where was she going? She didn’t want to leave the arena – it was the only place left she belonged.

 _Why can’t I move,_ Johanna wondered. _Why can’t I talk?_

She wanted to ask where they were taking her, but couldn’t move her lips. _Bastards tranquilized me._

 _Hush,_ someone said. _Hush now, Jojo, you’re safe._

“Eurydice?” Johanna tried to say. “Why are you in my head?” She could see movement – were those people, leaning over her? Why were they here? There were foggy shapes, all around, and Johanna was scared. She had lost her hatchet – how was she meant to protect herself? She realised she was somehow still holding the photo of Marin’s baby, and scrunched it in her hand, holding onto it as tightly as she could.

_I’m not in your head, baby, I’m right here with you. Just sleep now. You’re safe._

“I’m dying?” Johanna asked. She sure felt like she was dying. She felt like she was fading away, into nothing – but the nothing was warm and quiet and safe. She wanted to die. She wanted to fade.

 _No, Jojo, you’re gonna have a real long life. It’s not your time yet. You just have to be strong for a little while longer._ Johanna thought that was a hard ask, because all she wanted to do was die. But she would live, for Eurydice.

“Miss you, Eury,” Johanna mumbled, closing her eyes.

_I miss you too, Jojo. Sleep now._

“Kay’,” Johanna whispered, and let herself fall into the sweet release of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck.


	29. Nothing At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mags and Meredith visit Johanna in the hospital. A conversation with Magnolia makes Johanna realise exactly what her future will be like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Decks Dark by Radiohead

**Capitol Hospital: Johanna Mason**

Johanna didn’t know how long she was asleep for, or if she even was asleep. Consciousness faded in and out like a tide, and Johanna could hear the constant hum of voices, of screams – there was no way of knowing whether or not these noises were in her head. They sounded so real, and Johanna wondered if she would ever be able to know for sure, if the voices were there or not.

 _Am I real?_ She wondered sometimes. It felt as though she wasn’t real. She thought, sometimes, that she was just some created entity, floating around in some sort of void, doomed to never feel present. _Maybe I invented myself. Maybe I don’t exist, maybe I’m just the idea of a person._ She couldn’t even make sense of what was going on in her head.

The first time Johanna knew for sure that she was real was when she felt the pain. The horrible, side-splitting pain – she tried to scream but wasn’t altogether sure if she had managed to make a noise. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know _WHO_ she was, or how she’d gotten there, or if she’d ever hear anyone who wasn’t in her head. She could hear them – the children. Crying and screaming and demanding to be set free – how could Johanna explain to them, that they would never be free? She had survived, and still she wasn’t free, and so the children stuck in her head never would be.

The second time she knew was real was when she heard an angry woman, yelling somewhere in the distance – Johanna knew she hadn’t invented the woman, because her loud exclamations brought pain to Johanna’s ears. She didn’t sound like the children, anyway – she didn’t sound sad. “…you are insane, you must let me see her… I am her MENTOR, you imbecile…”

She heard more yelling, and the loud thumps of footsteps getting closer and closer… she found that she could open her eyes. _When’s the last time I did that?_ Johanna couldn’t remember. It felt as though she’d been sleeping forever… she didn’t want to wake up.

Magnolia leaned over her, and Johanna felt an incredible sense of relief – she knew that Magnolia would never hurt her. She felt safe, for the first time in – how long had it been? A long time.

“Magnolia,” Johanna croaked. Her throat felt dry, and she wondered when she’d last had a drink of water. Had she remembered to fill her water bottles up from the stream? _Oh,_ she remembered. _I don’t need to do that anymore._ There was a whole jug of ice water, full to the brim, on her bedside table.

“Yes, Johanna, I am here, and you are safe,” Magnolia assured her, stroking her forehead. Her hand was cool and comforting, and with it came a great wave of homesickness – how many times had her mother made the same gesture, when she was sick in bed? Johanna missed her mother. Johanna missed everything about her home and everyone who was there.

“How long have I…” she started to say, trailing off in the middle of her sentence, her throat too dry to form any more words. Thankfully, Magnolia knew what she meant.

“A day,” Magnolia said, helping her take a sip of water from a glass that had been on her bedside table.

Only a day? It felt far longer than a day. It felt as though she had been asleep for weeks and weeks. Johanna squeezed her eyes shut, and tried not to think of what had happened – the mere idea of it was too horrifying to consider a possibility. To think that it was a reality – Johanna didn’t want to think that what she had done was real. She hoped with every fibre of her being that the memories she had… of the arena, of the Games… she hoped and prayed that the memories weren’t real. Because if they were… who was she? Was she a killer, a _murderer…_ or was she lucky? Johanna sure didn’t feel lucky.

“Magnolia… is it real?” she whispered. “Did I really…”

Her mentor looked down at her. Her eyes were watery, and Johanna was surprised – she had never, in all her years of knowing her, seen Magnolia cry. She just didn’t seem like the kind of person who would cry. She had always been the cold, albeit caring, leader – the woman who had spent so much time teaching Johanna and Eurydice everything she could, even though she knew the risks that could befall her. So to see her cry – it was if the sky had turned green and started raining whole rotisserie chickens.

“Yes, my darling,” Magnolia said, and cupped Johanna’s face in her cool, wrinkled hands. A tear rolled down her cheek, and dropped onto the bed, leaving a tiny dark spot on the blanket. “Yes, it is real.”

And Johanna squeezed her eyes shut again and tried, tried, tried to forget.

0o0o

She remained in the hospital for several more days – they wanted to watch her, just in case, as she had lost a dangerous amount of weight in the arena. She had gone into surgery for her bad ankle and her many broken toes the minute she’d arrived in the Capitol – she didn’t remember any of it. Her right little finger had also been fractured – probably from when Johanna punched the tree. Needless to say, she was in a lot of pain all over. Magnolia and the other District Seven Victors were her only visitors. There was always someone by her bedside, which Johanna was immensely grateful for – she didn’t want to be alone. When she was alone, there was nothing and no-one to distract her from the images she couldn’t get out of her head.

On her last day in the hospital, however, she was visited by two people who were the last two people Johanna thought would want to see her. Mags, a walking legend, and Meredith, always poised and elegantly dressed. _Marin,_ she remembered, and tried to scramble out of her bed. They wanted revenge, of course they did… they were here to kill her, just as she had killed Marin. Why else would they have visited?

She hadn’t stood up in days, and pain burst up her legs when she tried to run. Crumbling to the ground with a shriek of pain, Johanna crawled backwards, away from the two women. “Shit, shit, shit,” she said to herself, and looked around the room for something to defend herself with… there was nothing but a vase of flowers on her bedstand. _I can break it… use the shards as knives. But will they be sharp enough? If I hit in the right spot, with enough force…_ Johanna shook her head, realising what she was thinking of doing. _I’m not in the arena anymore… and they’re not going to kill me._

“Get back into bed, girl,” Mags said sternly, pointing to the unmade hospital bed. Meredith noticed Johanna’s eyes flickering to the door, and stepped in front of it.

“Don’t even think about running in your condition,” she said, shaking a finger at Johanna. “Magnolia will flay me alive if she finds out I’ve let you injure yourself.”

Johanna gulped. Mags offered her a gnarled hand, and Johanna scowled at it, and instead of accepting the wizened Victor’s help, she crawled over to the bed and used it to pull herself up. In her panic, she had forgotten about her poor, fucked-up feet. The Capitol doctors had easily fixed her many broken toes, but the pain still remained, and she was under strict instructions not to put too much weight on her feet.

“Why are you here?” she asked them, all too aware of the shaking in her hands. She clenched her fists, and that helped with the shaking a little. “What do you want?”

“For heaven’s sake, sit down. We’re not going to hurt you,” Meredith said, closing the door and making her way over to join Mags by the bed.

Johanna sat on the bed, but didn’t lie down. She didn’t trust the two women at all – she had killed their tribute, after all. “Why are you here?” she repeated.

Mags crossed the room and sat by Johanna’s bed. “Marin was our tribute. And – “

“I knew it,” Johanna hissed, moving as far away from the two women as she could on the narrow hospital bed. Which wasn’t very far. “You’re here to avenge her, to –“

“Don’t be stupid,” Meredith snapped. Her voice was loud, angry, and Johanna recoiled. Meredith noticed Johanna’s fright, and her expression softened. She gave a small sigh, before continuer, her voice soft. “We’re not here for that. And even if we were, it would only cause a hell of a lot of trouble that I, for one, would prefer to avoid.”

“So why are you here?” asked Johanna.

“We’re here to forgive you,” Mags said, reaching over and tucking a lank strand of hair behind Johanna’s ear.

Johanna blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Why?”

Mags sighed, and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before returning her gaze to Johanna. “Being a Victor – surviving the arena… it’s, well, you never really get better. The night terrors, the paranoia – the arena never truly goes away.”

“Neither does the guilt,” Meredith cut in.

Mags nodded in agreement. “That’s why we’re here, Johanna. To tell you that you did everything you could to survive and we can’t possibly hold that against you.”

“We Victors have a rule – we never hold what we did in the arena against each other,” said Meredith. “There’s no point in it, because what’s done is done. We all earned our place, just as you did.”

“You’re one of us now, Johanna, whether you like it or not,” Mags said tenderly, giving Johanna a kind smile. “And I want you to know that we Victors are like a family – we take care of each other. All is forgiven, Johanna.”

“But she has a kid,” Johanna said quietly. How could they forgive her, when she had taken Marin away from her daughter? “She has a baby daughter.”

“Yes. She had a baby,” said Mag, her eyes sad. Meredith was silent. “But Johanna, you won fair and square. You won, and Marin didn’t, and there’s nothing we can do to change that.”

Johanna gulped down the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

Mags shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear. Nothing at all.”

“Thank you,” Johanna said – it was all she could manage. Her throat was thick, and she really didn’t want to cry in front of two strangers – in front of two of the most famous Victors, no less.

“If you need anything – let us know. Any of us,” Mags said, squeezing Johanna’s hand once before standing up. Meredith gave Johanna a small smile, and the two women made their way out of the room, the door closing gently behind them.

Johanna threw herself back onto the bed. “Fuck. Fuckity fucky fuck fuck.”

She couldn’t stand their kindness. She wished that they had screamed at her instead of forgiving her – Johanna understood anger. She didn’t understand forgiveness – why, why, why had they forgiven her, when she had taken so much from them, from their district? She had killed people, killed someone’s _mother,_ and now there was a little girl, out there in the world, all alone. Johanna didn’t think she deserved forgiveness. She knew that if the roles had been switched, she wouldn’t have forgiven. It would have been the last thing she’d do.

0o0o

On her fourth day back in the Capitol – the fourth day out of the arena – Johanna was given the all-clear to leave. The drive back to the Tribute Centre was surreal – the windows of the car were tinted, but somehow, they knew she was there. There were whole crowds of strangely-dressed people waiting at the entrance of the Tribute Centre, being held back by Peacekeepers… desperate for a glimpse of their Victor… Johanna shivered, and moved away from the window, closer to Magnolia.

“They are fascinated with you, Johanna,” Magnolia told her. “I haven’t seen a reaction like this since Finnick.

“Why?” Johanna asked. She wished they would go away – they were far to close. She could practically see the pores in their noses, despite the Peacekeepers’ best efforts at keeping them back.

“Your strategy. Everyone thought it was genius. And if there’s one thing they love here in the Capitol, it’s a good show. You gave them that. And of course there was last year… well, Annie was…”

“Broken,” Johanna offered, not being able to think of a better word to describe the 70th Victor.

“Well, we are all broken, in our own way. You do not go into the arena and come out of it whole – it just doesn’t work that way,” Magnolia said quietly, a faraway expression in her eyes. Johanna wondered what she was thinking about. “But some of us… some of as are better adept at handling the aftermath. Annie, the poor girl, she… well, you know.”

Johanna nodded. “Yeah.” Johanna remembered Annie Cresta, the demure girl from last year. She had burst into tears at the interview, and at the recap she had run off the stage screaming, and tearing out handfuls of her hair. It had been complete mayhem. Johanna supposed that was why the Capitol was so excited to see her – they had their blood-thirsty killer, the winner they so looked forward to seeing every year. She hated them all the more for it.

“You do realise that it is not over?” Magnolia asked, looking at her. “It never will be.”

Johanna nodded again, and looked out the window. “I’m starting to realise that, yes.”

“I will not attempt to fool you by saying it gets better. I suppose it does, if you’re lucky, over time. But you never – you never leave. A part of you is still walking around in that arena.”

“I know. Mags told me – she didn’t need to. I already feel that way.”

“I am sorry to say that you’ll likely always feel that way.”

Johanna didn’t say anything for a while – she wasn’t sure where to start. She didn’t even know if she wanted to talk about it, or not – if there was anyone who could understand, it was Magnolia. But the things she had done in there were so horrible that Johanna wanted to avoid them at all costs, bury them deep in the back of her mind and never think of them again. She knew that she didn’t have the luxury to forget – she didn’t deserve that luxury, not when everyone else was dead. She sighed, and turned to her mentor. “Do you?”

“What?” asked Magnolia.

“Feel that way.”

“Yes,” Magnolia said simply. Johanna liked the way she said it – she was glad that Magnolia wasn’t sugar-coating the harsh reality of what her life was to be. What her life already was.

Johanna cringed. “Oh. Sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for. It is not your fault,” Magnolia said, and froze, paling instantly.

“What?” asked Johanna curiously, unsure as to why her mentor had reacted in such a way to a seemingly innocuous statement.

Magnolia cleared her throat. “It’s… it is nobody’s fault, except the people who rebelled all those years ago. Our ancestors are the reason we have to repent.” Johanna opened her mouth to protest this – it was nobody’s fault but the Capitol’s, but Snow’s – but Magnolia widened her eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Johanna closed her mouth, biting back the words threatening to spill from her tongue.

She realised that they were being watched, listened to – of course they were. She was a Victor now – she was the Capitol’s property. She realised that she would never truly be allowed to live as she wanted to, not with the Capitol in power, not with the Games. She looked at her mentor, who was still slightly pale from her slip-up.

“We are very lucky, you know. You can have everything you want, now,” Magnolia said, her eyes sparkling with something Johanna couldn’t quite pinpoint – rage? Frustration? Sadness? “You have all the money in the world and a lifetime to spend it.” Johanna realised that the look in Magnolia’s eyes was resignation.

“Yeah. It’s cool,” Johanna said, gritting her teeth so hard she was surprised that her lower jaw didn’t fall off. Those three words were all she could manage. She didn’t know how to do it, how to compliment the Capitol without wanting to vomit. It felt so unnatural to her, praising the government that had taken so much from its people, the government that murdered twenty-three innocent children each year and ruined the life of one more. She knew she had to learn how to – she knew, without being told, the things that would happen to her loved ones if she didn’t play by Snow’s rules.

The car pulled up at the curb, and several more Peacekeepers came running from the centre. The second she stepped out of the car, Johanna was assaulted by a series of blinding flashes – photographers, she realised. “Johanna, look here!” they yelled, and Johanna took several deep breaths. It was overwhelming, the amount of people, all of them stretching out to touch her, trampling each other for even a chance of a glimpse of her… Johanna felt sick. She wanted to run, she wanted to hide, she wanted to scream and scream so long and loud that their eardrums burst, and she could be at peace.

Magnolia pinched her arm, and Johanna hissed, looking at her mentor with a scowl. Magnolia narrowed her eyes at Johanna. “Whatever you do, keep a smile on your face. You are happy to be here; you are grateful for what they have given you. Most of all, you are proud of what you have done. Now, smile.”

Johanna smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m doing NaNoWriMo this month, so updates may be a bit sparser – I’ve written a few chapters in advance so hopefully I’ll be able to stay on top of things. If not, you know why. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and *all that jazz*


	30. Magnolia: Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia has an argument with Blight over when to tell Johanna about Eurydice's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Flickers by Son Lux

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse: Magnolia Babineaux**

“When are you going to tell her?” Blight asked gently.

It was Johanna’s first night back from the hospital, and the girl had retired straight to her room after dinner, claiming she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Magnolia knew better. She had seen Johanna blinking away tears all throughout the meal – the girl didn’t want sleep, she wanted time to herself to cry. Magnolia was glad that she hadn’t shut down – so many Victors, herself included, refused to feel their feelings and became robotic shells of their former selves. If Johanna was crying, it meant she hadn’t begun down that path – Magnolia hoped she wouldn’t. There was nothing worse than feeling empty all the time, using drugs and pain and alcohol just so to feel _something._ Feeling was the beginning of healing – Magnolia hoped to the dryads that Johanna would heal. _I hope she doesn’t end up like me. A miserable sack of shit._

Magnolia sighed. “I am waiting until after her interview. She isn’t in the right frame of mind to hear it right now.”

She still hadn’t told Johanna about Eurydice’s death – she knew the girl wouldn’t handle it well, and it was unwise to tell her before she had been interviewed. Who knew what she might say out of anger, out of despair? Nothing good. It was too dangerous, and Magnolia knew from experience that Snow didn’t appreciate being challenged. She had the feeling that Johanna, in her grief-stricken state, wouldn’t care to watch what she said – it was better not to risk her saying things that could be perceived as rebellious on national TV. She had only been out of the hospital for a day, anyway, and Magnolia wanted her to have a few more days, at least, of blissful ignorance.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Blight asked. His eyebrows were creased, and he had a concerned expression on his face – god, did Magnolia hate that expression. It seemed so fake, as though he was merely pretending to care. Magnolia poured herself a glass of red wine, and took a sip. “You know what she’s like. The longer you wait to tell her, the worse she’ll react when she finds out.”

“Not necessarily,” Magnolia said, taking another sip.

Blight raised his eyebrows. “Magnolia.”

“Blight, I know you like to believe that you know everything, but you do not know Johanna as well as I do. This is the best way to do this – the only way to do this,” Magnolia said firmly. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, though – Blight, or herself?

“I trust you, Magnolia. I just don’t want you to make things more difficult on yourself than they have to be. You do that, you know. Complicate things for yourself. Sometimes I think you’re punishing yourself.”

“Why would I be punishing myself?” she asked.

Blight laughed a humourless laugh. “Is that really a question? Magnolia, you have a _major_ guilt complex.”

“I do not remember asking for a psychological evaluation.”

“Well, no, but you _did_ ask for my opinion.”

Magnolia paused, before thinking of a good comeback. “You’re being insufferable again, Blight.”

Blight sighed. “I’m trying to help you, Magnolia. You’re allowed to ask for help, you know. Just because you got us all out of the arena doesn’t mean we can’t also be mentors to you.”

“I don’t need – or want – your help. I appreciate it, but I do not need it.”

“Magnolia, I think you do. Your granddaughter just died, for crying out loud! And you’re going on like nothing happened, like you’re completely fine. You’re not fine, Magnolia, you’ve been drinking your weight in whiskey. Well, you do that anyway, but this time… Magnolia. You’re not fine. It’s okay to not be fine, you know, it’s normal and I hope-“

Magnolia pointed one trembling finger at him, which was enough to shut him up. Normally, she tolerated Blight and his arrogant nature – but he had stepped over the line. Magnolia thought she might do something terrible to him if he said anything else at all to her. “Shut up. Shut the hell up, Blight, and get out of my sight.”

“Magnolia, let me help you.”

Magnolia raised her eyebrows. “I thought I told you to get out of my sight?”

“Of course, Magnolia,” Blight said, obviously frustrated, though he tried not to appear that way. He never had been very good at concealing his emotions. He exited the room, closing the door gently behind him. Magnolia wished he had slammed it.

She picked up the wine bottle to pour herself another drink, before setting her wine glass onto the table. What was the point of pouring another glass, when she could just drink directly from the bottle? Saved time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Blight lol.
> 
> Here is a little micro-chapter, hope you enjoyed it, and there’s a longer chapter coming soon.
> 
> Have a great day/night!
> 
> -Audrey :)


	31. Their Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna fkn hates Nona, and Arabella, and her prep team, and Caesar, and the Capitol in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Elephant Woman by Blonde Redhead

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse: Johanna Mason**

“Oh no, not you,” Johanna groaned, opening her eyes. She had hoped that the familiar squeaky voice was just part of her nightmare. So to wake up and see that horrible little face looming in front of hers… Johanna wanted to scream. It didn’t help that she had a horrible hangover, as well – alcohol helped her sleep. Took away some of the nightmares. Blurred the faces that danced on her eyelids whenever her eyes were closed.

“Oh yes, it’s me,” Nona said. Johanna took the scowl on Nona’s face to mean that she wasn’t forgiven for saying… what had she said to her stylist, before the Games? Nothing good, that she was sure of. It all seemed so long ago now, so trivial.

“What do you want?” Johanna groaned. She didn’t want to get up yet – her bed was so warm and comfy. And Nona was a bitch, and she hated her.

None poked her cheek, her talon of a fingernail pressing painfully into Johanna’s skin. “I’m here to dress you. The recap is this afternoon, or had you forgotten?”

Johanna slapped Nona’s hand away. “No, bitch, I hadn’t forgotten. Will you get out of the way?” she snapped, climbing out of bed. Of all the things to deal with in the morning, Nona was by far the worst. Well, after bears. Although, Johanna was at least allowed to kill bears. 

Nona narrowed her eyes. “There’s no need to be vulgar, girl.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘girl’, Nona.”

“That’s Madam Glib to you!”

Johanna sneered. “Yeah? Well, it’s ‘Oh spectacular one’ to _you._ ”

“I am _not_ calling you that,” Nona sniffed.

“Fine, Nona. Kiss my ass.”

Johanna knew that Nona would have blushed bright red if her face hadn’t been made entirely of plastic. She settled for giving Johanna a withering glare. “You stink of whiskey and sadness. Get in the shower.”

“You stink of cheap perfume,” Johanna retorted. “YOU get in the shower.”

Nona clutched at her pearls, a disgruntled expression on her face. “This perfume is Chanel No. 469! Your ignorance pains me.”

Johanna grinned – not because she particularly felt like grinning, but because she knew it would piss Nona off even more. “Your existence pains me.”

Nona all but shoved Johanna into the bathroom. “Get. In. The. Shower.”

0o0o

“The fuck is that?” Johanna exclaimed.

“Your dress,” Nona said proudly, looking at the horrible thing with what Johanna could only describe as love.

“I’m not wearing that,” she said. The dress looked as though it was made of bark, and was utterly shapeless. It was the ugliest dress she’d ever seen, and she’d worn decades-old hand-me-downs her whole life, so that was saying something.

“Yes, you are,” Nona told her, a nasty smile on her face. It was then that Johanna began to regret telling Nona to go fuck herself before the Games. Or did she say ‘fuck you’? Either way, Johanna regretted it.

“Ew. No. Nope,” she said, pretending to gag. “Looks like a street cat ate a bunch of maggots, and then vomited on a month-rotted corpse.”

Nona all but shrieked with rage, clutching her heart. “How dare you insult my art!”

Johanna laughed. It was the first time she’d genuinely laughed since… since… when had she last genuinely laughed? She couldn’t remember. Before the reaping, definitely. “If that’s art, then my name is Finnick Odair.”

“You horrible, insolent little girl, you-“

“I’m not wearing that,” Johanna told her again. Walking over to the closet, she began rustling through the clothes. There had to be something better suited to her – although, anything would be better than the literal piece of shit Nona wanted her to wear. She would sooner wear a garbage bag, than Nona’s horrible dress. A garbage bag would probably look better than the… _thing_ Nona had made. “No way am I wearing that dog-turd of a dress in front of the entire country.”

“You have to wear it!” Nona protested. “I made just for you!”

“I’m not wearing the ugly fucking thing!” Johanna shouted, whirling around, brandishing a clothes hanger like it was a sword. “Get a life, Nona. And take some art classes, maybe then you’ll actually be able to do your job.”

“Madam Glib,” Nona said, her tone of voice far quieter. She was getting mad, Johanna could tell.

“What?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t heard the stylist. _Ooh, this could work,_ she thought, catching sight of a shiny golden number. “Huh?”

“You will address me as Madam Glib.”

“What did you say, _Nona_?” Johanna said tauntingly.

“If I wasn’t obligated to help you… if it wasn’t against the law…” Nona muttered, pacing around the room.

“You would what?” Johanna asked, adding a blue evening gown to her armful of dresses. “Kill me? Go ahead, you ugly, washed-out old harpy. You’ll only be doing me a favour. “

Nona growled, her neon green eyes flashing angrily. “I am going to go now. You can dress yourself.”

“Thank the dryads, I thought you’d never leave.”

The stylist stormed from the room, and Johanna let out a sigh of relief. Finally some peace and quiet. A few minutes later, Magnolia marched into the room, her hands on her hips and an irritated expression on her face.

“Would you care to illuminate me as to why Nona came running from the room, as mad as I have ever seen her, shouting about ‘horrible, spoilt children’ and people ‘disrespecting the work of masters’?”

“Not really,” Johanna said, examining herself in the mirror. She had put on a long, blue gown. “How’s this?”

Magnolia frowned. “You look lovely, but I thought Nona made you a – what the hell is that?” she exclaimed, catching sight of the… thing, Nona had made. Johanna didn’t think it deserved to be called a dress, it was so fugly.

“That’s what she wanted me to wear,” said Johanna, and pretended to stick her fingers down her throat.

“Oh no, you cannot wear that,” Magnolia said, picking the thing up and looking at it with utter revulsion.

“Thank you!” Johanna said, relieved she didn’t have to wear the piece of shit dress. “That’s what I told her.”

Magnolia raised her eyebrows. “And exactly how rude were you when you said this?”

Johanna smirked, thinking of Nona’s expression when Johanna had insulted the dress. “No ruder than necessary. Besides, honesty isn’t the same as rudeness.”

“Perhaps that is sometimes the case. However, you _do_ cross the line sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?”

“All the time. Try the golden one, it’s nice.”

“Yeah, I like that one too,” Johanna said. The dress was a similar colour to Eurydice’s hair – maybe that’s why Johanna thought it was so beautiful. She peeled off the long blue gown, and dumped it on the floor, before wriggling into the gold dress.

It fit her perfectly, and Magnolia nodded her approval. “Where is your prep team?”

Johanna shrugged. She couldn’t say she missed them – they were like less severe versions of Nona. “I don’t know.”

Magnolia sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I will go find them. Oh, and find some shoes, will you? You’re not going out on that stage in bare feet.”

“Aw,” Johanna said, not really meaning it.

Magnolia pointed at her, a stern expression on her face. “Shoes.”

“Fine.”

Johanna dug through the shoe drawer – yes, there was an entire dresser drawer dedicated to shoes – before pulling out a pair of strappy white sandals. _They’ll do,_ she thought, pulling them on.

“I will do your makeup, your prep team is nowhere in sight.”

“They’re probably busy licking Nona’s shoes clean. White goes with gold, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Those shoes work.”

“Cool. Hey, no heavy makeup, okay? I hate that shit.”

“Certainly,” Magnolia said. She stepped into the bathroom and disappeared for a second, before returning with an armful of luxury makeup.

Johanna felt sick at the thought of the recap. She had no idea how she was going to handle it again – she didn’t think she could relive her Games without going insane. “I really don’t want to watch that again,” she said quietly, looking down at her clasped hands.

Magnolia seemed to know immediately what she was talking about. “I know you don’t. Nobody does.”

“How did you…” Johanna hesitated for a moment, before deciding to go ahead and ask the question. “How did you deal with seeing all that again? All that horror?”

Magnolia sighed. Johanna noticed, not for the first time, how utterly sad her mentor looked. Johanna had never seen her like this before – and she realised how hard it must be to come back to the Capitol and watch a bunch of kids die, unable to help them. Johanna realised with horror that that was her life now – it was her job to watch kids die. She looked at her feet as Magnolia began to talk.

“It wasn’t easy, I will not lie to you. And it definitely will not be easy for you, either,” Magnolia said, picking absent-mindedly at her fingernails. “You just have to block it out as much as you can. Think of something else. Pretend you’re at home, at the top of a tree. That is what I did.”

“I can’t think of anything else. Since I left the arena, it’s all I can think of.”

“That will not be the case forever. It will, for a long time. But someday, you will find yourself thinking of something different.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Yes, it is nice,” Magnolia said thoughtfully.

“Why do you talk like that?” Johanna asked. She had always wondered about Magnolia’s voice – she had a strange accent, one Johanna had never heard on any other person. Neither Sylvia nor Eurydice spoke like Magnolia, and so Johanna wondered whether it had something to do with Magnolia’s parents.

“Talk like what?” Magnolia asked, looking confused.

“All fancy,” said Johanna. “Will not, cannot, do not. Like you’ve lived in the Capitol your whole life.”

Magnolia pulled a face, presumably at the thought of being a native Capitolite. “I have been a Victor for many years. When I was a young mentor, the Games were still relatively new – twenty years. And the Capitolites abhorred anything foreign, which, unfortunately for those of us with especially noticeable accents – Four, Seven, Nine, Ten, Eleven, mainly – meant we had to learn to speak as they do if we wanted our kids to have sponsors. So that is what I did. And I suppose my accent is now a mix of Seven and Capitol.”

“Why don’t you speak normally now, though?”

Magnolia shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

“Fair enough.”

Magnolia dabbed Johanna’s cheeks with the makeup brush once more, before giving a satisfied nod. “Done. I did not do as well as the prep team would have, but it’ll do.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Now, go eat something before we have to go. Nothing too heavy, we don’t want you throwing up in the middle of the stage.”

Johanna made her way out into the dining room, and was for a second on edge – who was this colourful stranger, sitting at the table? It took her a moment to remember Arabella, the escort she hadn’t seen since… when had she last seen her?

“Oh, fuck, I forgot about you,” she said. She hadn’t even _thought_ about Arabella – in all honesty, Johanna had completely forgotten she existed.

Arabella didn’t seem to appreciate that very much. The escort gasped. “Well I never! How rude!”

Johanna shrugged, and helped herself to some pumpkin soup. “Sorry.”

“Wait one second, you’ll slop soup all down your front… here.” Arabella tucked a napkin into the front of Johanna’s dress.

“Get off me!” Johanna scowled, squirming away from Arabella. She didn’t want to be touched – she couldn’t trust anyone else’s movements, after all. What if they had a knife hidden up their sleeve, ready to stab her through the throat? No, she couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Even someone as dim-witted as Arabella.

Arabella huffed. “I am only trying to help.”

“Well, stop,” said Johanna irritably.

“You’re just as stubborn as Magnolia.”

Johanna opened her mouth to say something, before changing her mind and tilting her head, widening her eyes in a mock-sympathetic way. “Aw, Arabella, your skin is breaking out again. You should take care of that before the recap… you’ll be onstage too, won’t you?”

Arabella sat up in alarm. “Again? Oh my. Oh, and it was so clear this morning… I even did a mask…” She hastily stood up and exited the room, leaving Johanna alone at the table.

0o0o

 _Think of something else,_ Johanna told herself, digging her nails so sharply into her skin she drew blood. _Think of something else._ She tried to remember what Magnolia had told her. _You’re not really here,_ she told herself. _You’re safe at home, at the top of the highest tree in the forest… Eurydice is sitting next to you. You’re okay._

She had no choice but to stare at the screen – she knew she had to play by their rules, as much as she hated them. She allowed herself to look away for ten seconds every five minutes, and the counting helped to get her through it. _Forty seven, forty eight, forty nine…_ There was Maizy, tearing through the forest, blood pouring from the stump of her arm. _Fifty four, fifty five, fifty six…_ and there was Marin, wailing at the sky as the hovercraft took away her district partner. Her friend.

It hurt to see her fellow tributes. For a large part of the Games, they hadn’t felt totally real to Johanna – she had allowed herself to ignore the fact that they had families, friends, that they felt pain and grief and anger just as she did. She had tried to forget, so it would be easier to kill them, and she had somewhat managed to achieve this by hiding away from everybody. But now she had no choice but to be confronted by their humanity. Here they were onscreen, looking just as scared and determined and homesick as she had felt.

She walked off the stage as soon as she was allowed to, without acknowledging Caesar. They probably thought she was very rude – good. Just as she had had an angle before, the coward, she had to have one now. She thought she may as well go for the stone-cold bitch angle – at least then she wouldn’t have to do too much acting. She found it somewhat amusing that even though she had left the arena, even though she had won – the Games still weren’t over. Johanna wondered if they ever would be.

0o0o

Nona didn’t even bother showing up to dress Johanna for the interview, the day after the recap. Johanna was glad – she was agitated enough as it is, she didn’t need Nona being there to agitate her any further. She picked another dress from her closet – this time, a long, floaty gown made from luxurious purple fabric – and Magnolia did her makeup, as she had done yesterday. Arabella helped Johanna put her hair up in a simple yet elegant up-do, and for a moment Johanna felt almost guilty for tormenting Arabella the day before. _I’ve gone soft._

She wasn’t nervous for the interview. She had sat through the recap, which was the third-worst thing that had ever happened to her – the first and second being reaped and the Games, of course. She could handle a little interview.

Once the initial applause and whooping of the audience settled down, Johanna made herself comfortable in her chair, crossing her left knee over her right and looking at Caesar imploringly, hoping he would hurry up and talk so she could get off the stage as soon as possible.

Caesar looked at her, but he didn’t really _look_ at her – Johanna knew he didn’t care about her. He didn’t care that she had fought her way out of the arena, he didn’t care that she had killed people, he didn’t care that she woke up screaming at least five times a night. He didn’t care, and Johanna hated him oh so much. He didn’t know this, of course, and if he did – she doubted that he would care.

“I think we were all quite shocked, Johanna, when you revealed yourself to be so ruthless and capable. I know I was – I spilled my drink all over the table!” Caesar chuckled animatedly, and mimed spilling a glass. The audience laughed, and Johanna stared blankly at him, knowing and loving that her eyes said ‘fuck you’.

Caesar seemed unfazed by the murder-rays her eyes were frying him with. “I imagine it was quite hard for you, acting so incompetent, when in all actuality you were without a doubt one of, if not the most, skilled tribute this year.”

Johanna nodded, thinking of all the times her act was nearly revealed, of all the times she was tempted to give it up. “Yeah. It was.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I just kept reminding myself of the end goal, which was to survive. I was prepared to do anything it took to get back to my loved ones.”

Caesar nodded. “You mentioned your loved ones in your pre-Games interview, did you not?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell us about them.”

“Well. There’s Mom and Da, and my older sister Rowan, and my little brother Bear. I’d do anything for them. And –“ Johanna hesitated. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to tell them about Eurydice. They didn’t deserve to know about her. Eurydice was like an angel walking on earth to Johanna – and Snow was the devil.

 _Fuck it._ “And my girlfriend. Eurydice.” She knew Eurydice would be extra protected from Snow – she was Magnolia’s granddaughter, after all. And everyone knew Magnolia.

“Eurydice, what a beautiful name. I seem to recall another young lady by that name… unless it’s the same girl? Our very own Magnolia Babineaux’s granddaughter?”

“Yeah, she’s Magnolia’s granddaughter.”

Caesar’s face lit up, excited by where the conversation was going. “Ah! So I imagine you knew Magnolia quite well before the Games even started, then.”

“Well, I knew her, but I wouldn’t say I knew her well,” Johanna said. It was a blatant lie, of course, but she knew she couldn’t mention how Magnolia had trained them. She glanced at her mentor in the front row, and Magnolia gave her a tiny nod, as if telling her she was on the right track. Feeling a little better, Johanna continued. “I didn’t get to know her well until the Games.”

“The Hunger Games, bringing people together for seven decades. Isn’t that right, folks?” He addressed the audience, and Johanna heard several whistles and wanted to scoff. “It’s a beautiful thing, don’t you think? So many friendships have been born from the Games.”

“Yep,” she said, gritting her teeth. Oh, how she hated him. He wasn’t as bad as some of the other Capitolites, of course, but she hated him all the same. She hated all of them.

“You seem to be quite capable with an axe,” Caesar said, not faltering for a moment even though Johanna wasn’t really engaging.

“A hatchet,” she corrected.

Caesar tilted his head to the side. “Are they different?”

Johanna nodded. “Yeah, a hatchet’s smaller. Takes less strength to swing.”

“Ah.” Caesar nodded, as though he knew what he was talking about. Johanna wanted to beat his arrogant ass. “I imagine you’d be quite familiar with them, growing up in District Seven?”

“Yeah. I’ve been chucking axes around since I was a kid. It’s just something you pick up on quite easily in Seven, I mean most people work in the woods so most kids learn pretty young how to handle an axe. Me included.”

Caesar leaned back in his chair, and looked at Johanna as though that was the most fascinating thing he had ever heard. “Tell me about life in Seven. I know I wouldn’t be able to live there – hay fever, you know.”

“Oh,” said Johanna. She didn’t want to tell him, or them, about her home – it was _hers,_ and she didn’t want to share it. Especially not with Caesar – fuck Caesar. She glanced at Magnolia, who gave her an imploring look, as though saying _Come on, kid, speak!_ “Well, it’s beautiful. My house is completely surrounded by forest.”

“You were quite at home in the arena, then.”

“Yeah. I’m really glad there was a forest part. I don’t think I would have won, without the forest. It looked just like the forest at home.”

“What are you going to do, Johanna, when you get home?”

Johanna shrugged. She didn’t want to do anything – she was just happy that she was allowed to go home. She hated the Capitol with every fibre of her being, and not just because of the Games. Johanna often thought that she had died and gone to hell. “I dunno. Hang out with my family. Spend time with Eurydice. Go hiking.”

“Anything else? I recall you were making a beautiful wood carving in the arena, of a bear.”

She shrugged. She had forgotten about the little wooden bear – she wondered, suddenly, where it had ended up. And where was Maizy’s doll, and Marin’s photograph? She had had both of those things with her when she won, and she really hoped she would get them back. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ll do more of that.”

“Excellent, excellent – you’ll have to show me when you’re back here for your Victory tour!” Johanna tried not to grimace – she was trying not to think about her Victory tour. She never wanted to set foot in the Capitol ever again, and it only pissed her off more that she had no choice about that. She hated that she wasn’t even allowed to control where her feet walked. “Now, Johanna, what did you tell yourself, in the arena? What kept you going?”

“Well. I thought about my family a lot, and about Eurydice. I thought about home.”

“Was being a Victor an inspiration for you?” asked Caesar, and that was when Johanna knew she was in trouble. “I know a lot of our Victors have wanted to participate in the Games since they were only young, and I believe this was the case for some of your fellow tributes – namely the Ones, Twos, and Fours, and the girl from Ten, even. Would you say it’s a similar case with you?”

Johanna’s palms were sweating. She had no idea how to answer that question – no matter what answer she gave, it would be the wrong one. She was beginning to become very aware of all the pairs of eyes staring at her, of the stage lights, beaming harshly down. The faces of her fellow tributes danced in front of her eyes – she could almost see them, almost hear them, could almost feel their breath and spit against her face as they screamed. When she finally began to speak, her mouth was dry. “I never intended on going into the Games. But I had always had a plan, just in case.”

“What was your plan?” Caesar asked, looking at her with curious eyes. She was surprised at this, but

Johanna saw genuine curiosity in his eyes – maybe Caesar wasn’t as shallow as she had thought he was. “Pretend to be incompetent. Fool everyone into thinking I wasn’t a threat. And then, when they least expected it – then, when they had forgotten I ever existed – then I would strike.”

Caesar nodded. “And take them by surprise.”

“Yeah,” Johanna agreed. “And then I would kill them all.”

0o0o

“That was a complete train wreck,” Magnolia said, leading Johanna back into Seven’s Penthouse. “You were almost entirely boring.”

“Good,” Johanna replied. “Maybe they’ll leave me alone now.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Yeah, I know,” she sighed.

“You could at least make things a bit easier for yourself in the long run.”

Johanna frowned. She didn’t give a shit about her life – the only reason she was still alive was because she didn’t want her family to go through that. The people she loved were the only reasons Johanna had for living – the Capitol could do what they wanted to her, as long as they didn’t touch her people. “Look, as long as I’m okay and my family’s okay, I don’t really give a shit what happens. I don’t care about what happens to me – I’ll do whatever I have to do – but nothing else. Nothing extra.”

“As long as you’re careful,” Magnolia said worriedly.

“Yeah, I’ll be careful.” Johanna didn’t even know what careful meant any more. 

“Good girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter’s okay! I always find Caesar a bit hard to write, so I hope the interview is alright. This story isn’t finished yet, by the way. I’m taking it through until a bit after Johanna’s Victory Tour, although there may be some time skips for the sake of flow. I don’t like writing filler chapters.
> 
> Anyway. Have a great day/night, and I hope you’re all well.
> 
> -Audrey :)


	32. Porcelain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna finds out about Eurydice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: self-harm
> 
> Song: Apocalypse by Cigarettes after Sex

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse**

“Johanna… after dinner, there is something I must tell you.”

“Okay,” Johanna said, her mouth full of roast potato. She had been gorging herself the last couple of days – she had an extreme appreciation for the endless supply of hot food. It was a welcome change after ten days of protein bars and random plants. And in the hospital, the food had been quite bland, as the doctors didn’t want her stomach to be upset by rich food after she’d starved her ass off (literally).

“Slow down, you’ll choke,” Blight said, shaking his head in exasperation.

Johanna scowled at him. “S’ fine,” she said, swallowing. “I just spent a fortnight starving and freezing, I’ll each as much as I want.”

“Just don’t make yourself sick,” he warned.

“Whatever,” Johanna said, rolling her eyes. Magnolia wasn’t eating so much as moving her food around her plate – Johanna wondered what was the matter with her mentor. She’d been acting gloomy ever since Johanna had won. “What’s up with you, Magnolia?”

Magnolia took a large gulp of wine, and said nothing. She looked at Jamie somewhat helplessly, and Jamie reached across the table and patted Johanna’s hand. Johanna yanked her hand away from him – she didn’t want to be patted, like she was someone’s pet – she wanted answers. “Well?” she asked.

“Excuse me,” Magnolia said, patting her lips with a napkin before standing up and exiting the room, a faraway look on her face.

Johanna shook her head in bewilderment. “Seriously, what’s up with her?”

There was no reply. Blight and Oscar exchanged worried glances – Jamie stood up and followed Magnolia out of the room. “Have you all been made into Avoxes, or something? What the hell is going on?”

Blight sighed. “Finish your dinner, Johanna. Magnolia has some things she has to discuss with you – I don’t think she’d appreciate us telling you instead of her.”

“Okay,” Johanna said. Something told her not to push any further. There was a little seedling of doubt growing in her stomach – what could have happened, to make the mentors act so strangely? Especially Magnolia. Johanna had never seen her mentor act so weirdly before. Was there trouble at home, perhaps? Johanna hoped to god there wasn’t, that whatever was worrying Magnolia had to do with something else.

She pushed her plate away, her appetite gone.

0o0o

“Johanna… sit down.” Magnolia gestured to the couch.

Johanna frowned at her, and took a seat, tucking her knees under her butt and leaning back. “What’s this about, Magnolia? Why so serious?”

“There is something you should know.” Magnolia’s lip trembled, and she clasped her shaking hands in her lap.

Johanna frowned at her again. “Magnolia, you’re scaring me.”

“It… I…” Magnolia stuttered, her eyes dancing around the room, looking anywhere but Johanna.

Johanna felt a cool sense of dread start seeping into her bones, into her very soul. Something was wrong, something was bad – she knew it, she just knew it. She could _feel_ it, and she desperately didn’t want to. “Spit it out, Magnolia, for fuck’s sake.” She wanted it, whatever it was, to be out and over with.

Finally, Magnolia’s eyes locked with hers. “Eurydice is dead,” she said, her voice unnaturally soft.

Johanna blinked. It couldn’t be true – Eurydice couldn’t be _dead._ The very idea of it was ridiculous. “No she’s not.”

A tear that had been gathering in Magnolia’s eyelashes fell down her face. “Yes she is.”

“What the hell?” she said, her voice rising an octave. The pit in her stomach was so wide and gaping that Johanna was surprised it hadn’t yet swallowed the room and everything in it. “She’s not dead, she can’t be dead.”

“Johanna, I am sorry, but she is,” Magnolia said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. “I wanted to wait until you were a bit healthier before I told you…and until after the interview… Johanna, I am so sorry.”

“That’s not funny, Magnolia,” Johanna said, feeling her throat begin to close up, as it did when she felt any strong emotion. She shook her head, and laughed – it couldn’t be true. Eurydice was dead? The absurdity of the thought made Johanna want to… she didn’t know. So she laughed. “It’s not fucking funny.”

Magnolia didn’t say anything. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and Johanna found that she couldn’t breathe. She had pins and needles in her hands and feet. “Eurydice isn’t dead, Magnolia, she’s not fucking dead!”

“Johanna, I am… I’m so sorry,” Magnolia whispered.

“No, fuck you, Magnolia!” Johanna shrieked. She refused to believe it was true – it just couldn’t be true. If Eurydice was truly… if what Magnolia had said was true, what was the point of Johanna’s life? It just couldn’t be true. Magnolia _had_ to be lying, she had to be. “I told you that it isn’t funny! She’s not dead, she’s not, she can’t be dead!” Johanna jumped to her feet.

“Johanna, sit down, sweetheart,” Magnolia said, and Johanna felt a strangely cold flash of anger. How dare she spit there, spew horrible lies, and then call Johanna ‘sweetheart’? How dare she? “Let me make you some tea.”

“Fuck you, Magnolia! I don’t want a mug of fucking _tea,_ get the hell out of here!” She didn’t want to yell – but Magnolia was being ridiculous. It was pissing her off. Eurydice couldn’t be dead, she just couldn’t be. Eurydice was the most _alive_ person Johanna knew – she was always laughing, or dancing, or running, or singing. She was so full of life that the idea of her being dead was incomprehensible. It just couldn’t be possible.

Storming from the room, Johanna slammed the door closed behind her as hard as she could, hoping it would shatter into tiny shards. Blight was standing in the hallway, and stepped out of the way as she passed, an unreadable expression on his face. “Blight, would you go in there and tell Magnolia to stop being such a stupid fucking bitch?” Johanna let out another laugh. “She’s lost her fucking mind, Blight, did you hear what she said? She said – well, did you hear?”

When Blight’s expression remained the same, the doubt inside Johanna began to grow, and grow, and grow. “Blight?” she said, softer this time. Her hands were shaking, so she made them into fists, digging her nails into her palms as hard as she could.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Johanna.”

His words hit her like a punch in the throat. When Magnolia had said it, it had been unbelievable. But Blight – why would he be pretending as well? “Oh no, oh no, oh no…” Johanna whispered, swaying where she stood. Eurydice was dead? Was she actually dead? Was it true?

She felt her knees crumble beneath her, and could hear, distantly, worried voices – she could feel Blight’s hands on her shoulders, keeping her upright, but she didn’t care. She felt far away from everyone – she wanted, so badly, to die. “Get off me!” she hissed, and clawed the hands away. Johanna stumbled down the corridor, trying to remember what her room looked like. Everything was distorted, misshapen – or maybe that was just the tears in her eyes, blurring the world beyond recognition.

She wasn’t entirely sure how she managed to make it to her room, but the second the door closed behind her, Johanna’s vision cleared. She could see everything in crisp detail… the colours were so bright that they burned her eyes. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think… and those goddamn colours were like _fire,_ burning holes through her eyeballs and right through the back of her skull like lasers.

She remembered the times Eurydice had visited her in the arena… there was that time, in the dream, after the bears. And then when she had been tranquilised, lifted from the arena after her blinding attack of rage on several innocent trees. Johanna wondered how long that Eurydice had been dead. She knew, now, that it really _had_ been Eurydice – she hadn’t just been part of Johanna’s imagination, which was what she had thought at the time.

She felt as though the world was dissolving around her – her hands felt strangely numb, and when she looked at them, it felt as though they weren’t hers. Those hands, which had held Eurydice, stroked her hair, touched her perfect porcelain face… did they really belong to Johanna? She wasn’t sure. She stuffed one of her – her? – fists partially in her mouth and bit down, screaming into her own skin and flesh, her mouth stretching so wide she was surprised her cheek didn’t re-open. When she pulled her hand away, there were bright red tooth marks – but she didn’t feel a thing.

Without Eurydice, there was nothing. Johanna didn’t want to think of a world without Eurydice – it seemed like it would be a horribly grey, horribly loveless, horribly boring world. She didn’t want to live like that – did she really want to live at all, without Eurydice? Johanna wasn’t sure. She felt as though she was spiralling, down, down, down, into the grey and into the nothing that she supposed was to be her new life.

 _Why am I not feeling pain,_ she wondered, pinching her hand once, twice, three times, digging in her fingernails until there were little specks of blood marring her skin – she couldn’t feel it at all. _Is there anything sharp in here?_ Johanna looked around the room – nothing. The bathroom was a similar scenario – the razor blades had been removed from under the sink. Johanna wondered if they always took the razors away from new Victors – they had been there before the Games.

She couldn’t find anything sharp. She wanted to feel pan, to prove to herself, even for a second, that she _was_ real – pain, after all, was something she could trust. She knew pain. She had become well-acquainted with pain in the arena, and she wanted to feel it again, like an old friend hugging her tight. There was nothing except the mirror, hanging soulless on the wall – Johanna hated it. How dare it hang there, mocking her – the girl pictured in its glass seemed to be laughing. Johanna punched her, and the mirror shattered – she watched the skin on her knuckles split open, saw the bright spurt of red on the wall, and still she felt nothing.

“Is she dead?” Johanna whispered, watching the many reflections in the shards of glass. They all nodded at her – _yes, Johanna, yes, she’s dead_ – and Johanna screamed. Screamed for them to stop. She wanted them to stop – she wanted the grey to go away.

There was a crash in the distance, but Johanna didn’t care – several Avoxes, Magnolia, Blight and Jamie came rushing into the bathroom, their voices overlapping and fusing together into one big, horrible noise that just wouldn’t go away. “Shut up!” she screamed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, you’re TOO LOUD!”

Magnolia reached for her. “Johanna, dear, you’ve hurt yourself… why did you break the mirror, that is seven years of bad luck –“ Johanna wanted to laugh at that. Her bad luck hadn’t started because she broke a mirror – her bad luck had started the moment she was born, the moment she was born into a fucked up nation and told to follow its fucked up rules. She doubted that breaking a mirror would bring any further bad luck – how could it, when her life was just one parade of bad luck?

“Go fuck yourself, Magnolia!” Johanna flung herself at her mentor, and began hitting every part of the woman she could – how dare she? How fucking dare she?

Magnolia caught Johanna’s arms before they could bruise her again, and pulled her into a hug. Johanna sobbed into Magnolia’s chest, feeling all the fight go out of her – she just wanted to go home. She wanted her mom. She wanted her da. But above anyone else in the world, she wanted Eurydice – Eurydice, who was dead, Eurydice, whose touch Johanna would never feel again. Whose beautiful voice would never again reach Johanna’s ears.

There was a small prick on the side of her neck, and a sigh escaped her lips – she felt herself lift slowly off the bathroom floor and into the darkness. She still didn’t love the idea of being tranquilized – but god, was it a welcome friend right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s raining. I think that’s appropriate for this chapter.


	33. Rodent (Bullshit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna meets President Snow, who she fucking hates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Hayloft by Mother Mother

**Capitol, District Seven’s Penthouse**

Johanna didn’t ever want to leave her bed again. It was the only thing left that comforted her. The mattress knew the shape of her body and hugged her. The duvet knew how she liked to be warmed with the air conditioner on full coldness. The pillow knew just how to support her neck. Her bed was the only lover Johanna ever wanted to feel against her skin again.

The door creaked open, and Johanna rolled over and pretended to be asleep. She hadn’t said a word for two whole days, and she wanted to keep it that way. She knew how her voice would sound if she used it. It would croak, and she would sound like a frog with bronchitis. She didn’t want to sound like a frog with bronchitis. She wanted to stay still and silent in her bed until the end of time.

“Johanna, sweetie.” It was Magnolia’s voice. Johanna didn’t give any indication that she had heard her. “Johanna, you must have a shower. Or at least change into some new clothes.”

Johanna didn’t say anything. Magnolia sighed. “Johanna, I am very sorry to bother you, but you have to get up today. Your meeting with President Snow is in two hours.”

Johanna’s stomach sank. She had to talk to President Snow? She never wanted to see his bitch-ass face again, whether on the TV or in person. It was his fault she had lost… she had lost. 

Magnolia put a warm hand on the side of Johanna’s head, and Johanna quickly pushed her hand away. “Ah. So you are awake.”

Still, Johanna didn’t say anything, and Magnolia sighed again. “Johanna, you can make this easy or hard for yourself, but you have to get up.”

When Johanna spoke, it was painful. And she _did_ sound like a frog with bronchitis. “I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t. But you have no choice. And…” Magnolia hesitated.

Johanna tried not to sigh. Whenever Magnolia hesitated, she was sure to have bad news. “And?”

“There are some things I want you to hear from me before you speak to him.”

“Like what?”

“I will tell you if you get out of bed.”

“Fuck you.”

Magnolia looked tired. “Johanna. Please.”

“Fine,” Johanna said sulkily. She kicked back the duvet and stood, and her legs were wobbly. The thought of crossing the room seemed like too much effort. Her legs felt like lead and she was just so, so tired. Magnolia took her by the arm and led her slowly over to the armchair in the corner of the room. Johanna sat down, relieved to be off her feet even though she’d only walked two metres. _Is this what getting old feels like?_ Johanna felt old. She felt as though she’d lived for a thousand years and still hadn’t died, and she really wanted to die.

Magnolia sat in the chair opposite Johanna, and when she looked up, Johanna noticed that she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her face was pale, and there were purple circles that resembled bruises under her bloodshot eyes. Johanna wondered whether she’d been crying. Johanna hadn’t cried since she found out. She hadn’t shed a single tear, and she hated herself for it.

When Magnolia spoke, her voice was soft. She sounded different. She sounded as though she wasn’t only pretending to be sad. “Johanna, are you aware that we Victors have certain duties to perform after our victory?”

Johanna shrugged. “I know that Finnick Odair sure as hell doesn’t have as many friends as they say he does.”

“You’re right.”

“So what are they, then, if they’re not friends?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. It wasn’t as though she had a choice.

“This is not easy to say.”

“I can handle it.”

Magnolia shook her head. Her leg was bouncing, up and down, up and down, and Johanna watched it – it was better than watching her face. “I tried to put off telling you for as long as possible, but I do not want you to hear it from the president. I wish I had had a mentor to tell me…”

“Magnolia, will you fucking spit it out?” she said. She was tired of all the bullshit.

“I wish I didn’t have to tell you,” Magnolia whispered, seeming much younger than she usually did. She seemed child-like and tired and broken and Johanna wasn’t sure whether to be angry or if she wanted to give her mentor a hug. “I wish we could just go home, right now. But it does not work like that.”

“Fucking talk!” Johanna said, and slammed her hand down on the end table. It hurt, and she was glad.

Magnolia exhaled, long and slow, and looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting Johanna’s eyes. “The Victors that the Capitol deems attractive are required to prostitute themselves in order to earn money for Snow.”

Johanna looked away from Magnolia. She didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what to say – it wasn’t as though it was surprising. It was horrifying, sickening, but not surprising.

“You did not react how I expected you to,” Magnolia stated, and she was so calm and cool and collected and Johanna hated her for it.

“How’d you expect me to react?”

Magnolia shook her head, obviously not sure how to answer. “I expected you to… punch yourself, or punch me, or flip a table. But you do not seem surprised.”

“I’m not surprised,” Johanna said, and it was the truth.

“Why?”

“Because people like sex, and people like money,” Johanna said. “It makes sense that we’d be exploited even more for the sake of both those things.”

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Johanna picked at her fingernails and watched Magnolia’s bouncing leg. “You need to be careful,” Magnolia said finally.

Johanna sighed. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They stared at each other, and Johanna realised that Magnolia’s eyes were identical to Eurydice’s. They were the same crystal blue, with dark stone grey around the outside. Johanna looked away. It felt as though Eurydice was staring at her instead of Magnolia and Johanna couldn’t handle that. She didn’t want to think about Eurydice – it hurt too much.

“Are you going to have a shower?” Magnolia asked.

Johanna shook her head. “No.”

“You might feel better.”

“No,” Johanna repeated, firmer this time.

“Very well. Do you want something to eat?”

“No.”

“Something to drink?”

Johanna hated how Magnolia was treating her. She was acting like Johanna was broken and bruised and bloody and maybe she was all those things but she still didn’t want to be treated as though she was. “Fuck off, I don’t want anything and I don’t need you treating me like I’m about to break. I’m not made of glass.”

“I know you’re not. I am just taking care of you. I am trying to do for you what no-one did for me.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t want your help.”

“I know you don’t.”

“Then why are you helping me?” Johanna asked before she was able to stop herself.

Magnolia gave her a small smile. “Even if we don’t want help, everyone needs it sometimes.”

“Well, I don’t, so you can take your stupid middle-aged but pretending to be twenty-nine Capitol mom quotes to hell with you,” Johanna snapped.

Magnolia looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean, a middle-aged but pretending to be twenty-nine Capitol mom quote?”

“I mean it’s such a basic and cheesy and fake thing to say.”

Magnolia shrugged. “But it’s true, is it not?”

“So you’re admitting it’s a Capitol mom quote.”

“I am a mom. But I am not a Capitol mom,” Magnolia said, looking disgusted at the very thought. “And I was middle-aged about twenty years ago.”

“So what?” Johanna scoffed. “It’s still super fucking basic.”

“There is sometimes wisdom in the simple.”

Johanna scowled. “There’s also a lot of bullshit.”

“I am glad you’re talking again,” Magnolia said, and Johanna wanted to slap the smug smirk off her face.

Johanna didn’t say anything, and crossed her arms over her chest. If she didn’t think it was immature, she would have also stuck her tongue out. Magnolia sighed. “Get ready. We will leave soon.”

Magnolia stood up, patting Johanna on the shoulder before leaving the room. Johanna stayed sitting for a while, picking at her fingernails. She didn’t want to stand up. She didn’t want to get dressed. She didn’t want to have a shower. She didn’t want to talk to President Snow. She didn’t want to do anything except pick at her fingernails and think about death.

0o0o

“Be careful,” Magnolia told her. They were standing outside Snow’s office, and Johanna was trying not to shake. “Think about every word you say before it leaves your mouth.”

“I will,” Johanna promised. What else could she do, but promise? She had told Eurydice to be careful, and Eurydice died. Careful didn’t mean shit. Because they lived in Panem and even if they were careful – even if everyone was wrapped in bubble wrap from the moment they exited the womb – they would still probably die before their time. It was just how things worked in their country.

Magnolia pulled her into a quick hug, and let go before Johanna had the chance to hug her back. “In you go.”

Johanna took a deep, shuddering breath. She had told herself she wouldn’t be afraid, the whole car ride here. But she was afraid. She felt how she’d felt on the podium, during the countdown. She felt as though she should be getting ready to run.

She pushed open the door to the office. It made no sound, and neither did her feet, so perhaps President Snow heard her terrified breathing because somehow he knew she’d entered the room even though he was staring out the window, his back to her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Mason,” he said, still not looking at her, and Johanna wondered what the expression on his face looked like. “Such a beautiful day, is it not?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. He turned around, and gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

He would have looked almost jovial if it weren’t for his cold, dead, reptile eyes. “Take a seat, my dear, take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Johanna said, because she was being careful and good manners were like another layer of protective armour.

“Your Games were the first in a while that kept me interested. I must thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Johanna said, and wondered if she should have said ‘no problem’ instead.

“You put on quite the performance. You’re a very talented actress.”

“Thank you.”

Snow leaned back in his chair, smiling, and observed her as though she was a small rodent he would like to have for lunch. “Tell me – what surprised you the most, about becoming a Victor?”

“How nice everyone treats me,” Johanna said, and it was the truth. No-one had ever treated her as nice as she was being treated now, and it hurt because she knew it was fake. She hated that they loved her, because she had become an object and they were only being nice because they wanted to own her.

“Yes, I imagine that must be welcome.” He smiled at her again, with those horrible eyes, and Johanna hated him. God, she hated him. “Now, Miss Mason, I abhor when people waste my time so I’m not going to waste yours. I would appreciate if you didn’t waste mine.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Are you aware, that Victors have certain duties, after the Games?”

“Yes.”

“There is the mentoring, of course, but there are also other things you are required to do,” he said. “Were you aware of this?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. And so do you understand, that failure in meeting these requirements will result in consequences?”

“Yes,” Johanna breathed. She wanted so desperately to look away but she couldn’t – she couldn’t show him any weakness because then he would think she was an easy target. And she didn’t want to be an easy target – she didn’t want to die without having put up a hell of a fight.

“Are you aware of what these consequences might be?”

“Not entirely,” Johanna admitted, and by the dryads did she hate herself for admitting that.

“Would you like me to enlighten you?”

“Please,” she said, as politely as she could manage, though really she wanted to claw his eyes out.

He smiled, as though he knew how she really felt. It seemed as though he was looking straight through her – as through he was stripping away the skin and flesh and muscle and bone and seeing straight through to Johanna’s soul. It made her feel ill. She didn’t want him to see her soul, she didn’t want him to see any part of her, and she hated that she desperately wanted to hide, like a little mouse running from a cat. “You may find that certain misfortunes befall those you love. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Johanna said, glad that her voice hadn’t cracked. She wanted so badly to glare but she didn’t, not that it mattered in the end. She was so angry and she couldn’t do anything about it, and she was certain that her eyes were red-hot lasers. She knew that he knew just how much she wanted to reach across the desk and strangle him, and she hated how unsafe that made her feel. She knew that he could press a button and her family would be dead, and that thought scared her more than anything she’d encountered in the Games. She knew just how important it was for her to treat the world with as much care it would take to walk blindfolded across a tight rope.

“You have a choice, of course, Miss Mason,” he said. “But if you choose not to do your duties to the Capitol as a Victor, you know what will happen.”

“Yes,” Johanna said, and she wanted to laugh. There wasn’t any choice. Become a prostitute, or Snow would kill her family. They were the only two options she had. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful,” said Snow, smiling at her with glittering eyes. He offered her his hand to shake, and she shook it. His grip was firm, and his skin was soft – for some reason she had been expecting his hands to be dry and scaly, like the reptile he was. It made him seem even more untrustworthy, having soft hands. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Mason. Oh, and I must express my condolences to you – so sad, for someone to die so young. I’m sure Miss Babineaux loved you very much.”

“Thanks.” It came out as a whisper, so she cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she said again, and this time she sounded strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was okay! I’ve never written Snow before so I hope he seems accurate. Also, I got to 69 kudos the other day. Nice. Love you all, you’re fucking amazing.


	34. Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Coming Down by the Dum Dum Girls

**District Seven, Train Station: Johanna Mason**

Johanna was majorly pissed off. MAJORLY. The train had arrived in District Seven at around four in the morning – Johanna, naturally, had wanted to immediately see her family. But for some stupid fucking reason (the reason being that they wanted to film the reunion live, at an appropriate time) she had to wait EIGHT MORE HOURS. Sure, she had lasted, what, four, five weeks without them? But eight hours seemed unbearable. Maybe because she was so close to them – when she stuck her head out the window, she smelt home, and it made her cry. She was so close to her family that it was torture to not be allowed to see them yet.

“Will you stop pacing for one moment, _please?”_ Magnolia snapped, looking up at Johanna tiredly from where she was slumped in an armchair.

“No. Fuck off. No, I won’t stop pacing, because they are RIGHT FUCKING THERE and I still can’t see them yet?” Johanna raved. “Fuck that. Fuck that, Magnolia, fuck that!”

Magnolia sighed. “I imagine the time would pass a lot quicker if you were asleep.”

“No. You think I’d be able to sleep when I’m like this? No. Oh my god, Magnolia, they’re-“

“-right there, yes, I know, you’ve mentioned that several times now.”

Johanna scowled at her. “Shut up.”

“Johanna, why don’t you just take a sleeping pill and close your eyes? It would make this a lot more bearable for each of us.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to turn into a total druggie like what’s-her-name from Six.” Johanna never wanted to have to rely on anything, anyone – what if she had to go without one day? She didn’t want to risk developing an addiction. She didn’t want her skin to go yellow and saggy, didn’t want her brain to slowly die. Fuck that shit, Johanna would put up with the pain of existence if it meant she wasn’t reduced to a shell of a human.

“Iris. And one sleeping pill is not a lifetime of morphine.”

“Whatever. I don’t want it.”

“Suit yourself,” Magnolia shrugged, and rose from her chair with a tired sigh. “But I am going to bed, and you can pace around this compartment as long as you want – no abusing Blight.” Blight was asleep in another armchair, his mouth partially open as if he was trying to catch popcorn in it. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and Johanna just _knew_ that if Eurydice were here, she would draw a moustache on him.

Thinking of Eurydice still hurt, and Johanna tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Says you,” she scoffed, oping Magnolia wouldn’t notice the tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

“Touché,” Magnolia said, shrugging again. “Alright. Goodnight.”

Magnolia left, and Johanna sighed. She stared out of the window for a moment, before returning to her pacing.

When Blight spoke up, a little while later, it had surprised Johanna. His voice was soft, croaky, ad she could tell from the look on his face that he was thinking very deeply about his words. “I didn’t know Eurydice well.”

“Okay?” Johanna said. “So?”

“I wish I had known her better.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She glared at him. She didn’t want to talk about Eurydice with anyone – except maybe Magnolia. So why did Blight bring her up?

He didn’t exactly answer the question. “I know how much she meant to you. I know she was an amazing person. And I regret not being around her more often.”

“Why?”

Blight looked momentarily confused. “Hasn’t Magnolia told you yet?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Told me what?”

“Never mind. I don’t think… well, I think Magnolia would prefer you hear it from her.”

“Whatever. Can you shut up now? I need to go back to counting my footsteps, it’s a lot more interesting than talking to you.”

Blight sighed, and stood up. Without another word, he exited the compartment, and Johanna was left to wonder what Blight had wanted to tell her.

0o0o

“Can I go now?” she asked. She didn’t know what they were waiting for – they had been waiting to exit the station for almost ten minutes now. It felt like longer, but Johanna had looked at the clock on the wall about twenty times so she knew it had definitely not been longer.

“They will tell us when we can go,” Magnolia said fidgeting. Evidently, she was hasty to leave as well.

“Why are they keeping us here?”

Magnolia shrugged. “The crowd is probably rowdy. This happens sometimes, unfortunately.”

“This is _torture,_ ” Johanna growled, flopping onto one of the couches. “Absolute torture.”

“Just be patient.”

“Fuck off with your patience, I’ve been waiting for so long,” Johanna retorted, scowling. “I want to see them. I want to go home.”

“Yes, sweetie-“

“Don’t call me sweetie,” Johanna interrupted.

“-I know, but I cannot make the time go quicker. And neither can you.”

0o0o

Johanna told herself she wouldn’t run across the platform – they always looked so stupid when they ran – but the moment the doors opened, running was the only thing she wanted to do. They were right there, and so she charged at them, and suddenly she was in their arms and she was sobbing ad she couldn’t help it, because god was she happy to be home but _god_ did she wish Eurydice was there as well. The absence of Eurydice’s touch was like a physical pain – she felt it, sharp in her chest, and wanted to scream. _Not on TV,_ she told herself sternly, and closed her eyes and felt her family around her. At last, they were breathing the same air.

“Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo, Jo-“

“-missed you so much, my darling-“

“-I was scared shitless-“

“Jo, I’m so sorry-“

Johanna didn’t answer any of them. She couldn’t find the words to describe how wonderful it was to be back home – and how guilty she felt because of that, because twenty-three people were dead and would never have the chance to feel the embrace of their families, ever again. And it was her fault, and she hated herself for it, but god was she happy to be home.

0o0o

The new house was too big. Johanna hated it right away. It smelled too new – nothing like the comforting, musty scent of her old house. Which she apparently wasn’t allowed to live in anymore.

But she would put up with it. She would put up with the fact it was right next door to Magnolia’s – she would put up the fact that it was right next to the house that her poor, dead Eurydice had grown up in. Sylvia hadn’t been over to visit yet – Johanna was glad. She wasn’t sure whether she could face Eurydice’s mother – not just because they looked so alike, but because Johanna knew that Eurydice’s loss would feel even more real when she saw the grief in Sylvia’s eyes. It already felt real – it already hurt. Johanna didn’t think she’d survive if it hurt even a little bit more.

Her new bedroom was big, the biggest in the house – she had wanted to give it to her parents, but they had insisted she take it. “It’s your house, Jo,” Mom had said, squeezing her hand. “You’ve earned it.”

 _Don’t you understand?_ she almost screamed. _You have someone to share it with._

0o0o

“Jo,” Bear whispered. Her siblings had decided to sleep in Johanna’s room – they were all unfamiliar and untrusting of the new house, and Johanna didn’t feel like staying in her new room alone. They were sleeping on the floor, with pillows scattered all over. Johanna felt comforted by their presence – she had shared a room with them her entire life, after all. The first time she had ever had her own room was in the Capitol. She liked that her siblings were there with her – it made her feel a little bit less alone.

“Yeah?” she whispered back. Rowan’s breathing was soft, and Johanna could see that she was drooling. She tried not to laugh at her sister, and rolled over to face Bear – there he was, with his round rosy cheeks and his big brown angel eyes. She had missed him so much, it hurt to think about.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” he said slowly, and those five words meant more to her than she could ever say. Bear never spoke much, and when he did it took a lot of effort – and so Johanna held those words close to her heart. They felt like a hug, and for the first time in weeks, Johanna slept soundly, her siblings on either side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Sorry this chapter took so long, also sorry it’s on the short side. School has been crazy – it’s that horrible time of year when EVERYTHING is due, so that’s fun. It’s summer holidays now though, which is good. Also, I’m working on the ‘Marin wins’ AU, so keep your eyes peeled for that I guess!


	35. This Ugly World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna attends Eurydice's funeral, and helps Sylvia and Magnolia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Make it Rain by Shoshana Bean (Sho snatches my wig every single time) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_YSY3jcBuo (this is the best version in my opinion, though they're all fantastic)

**District Seven, Cemetery One: Johanna Mason**

The priest was tall, and ugly. He had a long, hooked nose and bright green hair and oh, how Johanna hated him. He was speaking as though he had known Eurydice personally – he didn’t get to talk about her as if he knew her. Johanna wanted to throttle him. “We are here today to bid farewell to Eurydice Babineaux. Eurydice was a daughter, a granddaughter, a friend…”

Johanna tuned out the rest. She didn’t want to listen. She hated that the Capitol had organised the funeral – how dare they? It was probably their fault Eurydice had died. Johanna still didn’t know how it had happened – no-one would tell her.

Her mother’s arm snaked around her shoulders, and Johanna surprised herself when she didn’t shake it away. She hadn’t realised how dizzy she felt – she was swaying on her feet, and she felt as though she had left her body and was floating, observing the scene from above. Her mother’s arm was like an anchor, and Johanna leaned into her, relieved at the comfort.

She wanted to cry, to sink to the ground and clutch at the dirt and scream into the earth. She wanted to kick at anyone who approached her and she wanted to hiss profanities at the priest, but she didn’t dare. The funeral was being broadcast live – as a warning, she knew, to anyone in their district who tried what Eurydice had tried. Only District Seven knew how and why she had died. Only District Seven knew how and why Cypress and Myrtle Li had died – their bodies were still strung up in front of the Justice Building, where Johanna was sure they would remain until the next reaping. There had been another funeral for Cypress, but they had buried an empty box for the cameras. The Capitol had taken not just three more young lives, but also the district’s right to grieve.

0o0o

After the funeral, Johanna sat next to Eurydice’s grave, running her fingers through the freshly turned dirt. “We’ll see you back home,” said her mother, squeezing Johanna’s shoulder once before letting go. Johanna listened as her footsteps faded, crunching in the dirt.

“She loved you a lot, you know,” came a quiet voice from behind her. “More than she loved me, I think.”

Johanna didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “That’s not true.”

“It is true,” Sylvia said, taking a seat next to Johanna. Johanna didn’t look at her. “And that’s alright. I’m glad that she was happy.”

Johanna scoffed. “She wasn’t happy. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have tried to overthrow the government.”

Sylvia shushed her hastily, glancing anxiously over her shoulder. “Well, that may be true. But she was still happy. You made her happier than I’ve ever seen her. She was always such a sad little girl, before she met you. I don’t think you would have recognised her, before.”

Johanna didn’t know what to say, and Sylvia remained quiet.

_Eurydice Joan Magnolia Babineaux._

_May 25 th 2261 – July 18th 2278\. _

_A soul too beautiful for this ugly world._

At least the Capitol weren’t in charge of the headstone. Sylvia had gotten to choose what was written. “What did she say?” Johanna whispered. “Before she left?”

Sylvia looked drawn, half-dead, even. Her blonde hair was greasy and clinging to her scalp, and her eyes were shadowed. Her face was hardly more than a skull. The woman who Johanna had always known to be so elegant was now a shadow. A walking corpse. “She gave me a kiss, and said she wouldn’t be long.”

Johanna gulped. Sylvia’s tears dripped off her face and onto the mound of earth. “She was wrong, of course,” Sylvia said, laughing bitterly.

“Why did she do it, Sylvia?” Johanna asked quietly. Maybe Sylvia would have some of the answers to Johanna’s many questions.

“I don’t know,” Sylvia whispered. She closed her eyes and leaned back, her head tilted towards the clear blue sky. “I think she was too hopeful. And that made her careless. She felt invincible and didn’t realise that she could die just like everyone else. She was stupid.”

Johanna clenched her fists. “She wasn’t stupid!”

“No, she wasn’t,” Sylvia agreed. “But she made a stupid decision.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Johanna argued.

“I never said that,” Sylvia said, shaking her head. “Of course it wasn’t her fault.”

Johanna sighed.

“Can I ask you a favour?” Sylvia asked.

“Yeah.”

“Can you go through her room?”

Johanna frowned. “What?”

“It’s just that I can’t bear to step into it. Whenever I open the door, I-“ Sylvia let out a choked sob. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stand having a tomb in the middle of the house. Eurydice wouldn’t want that.”

“Okay,” Johanna said, not entirely sure what kind of task she had just agreed to. “Okay.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you,” Sylvia breathed. She sniffed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You can take anything you want, of course. It’s all yours.”

“Don’t you want-?”

“No. I can’t. I just… I can’t do it, Johanna. Every time I see something that belonged to her… her shoes, her hairbrush, even her dirty laundry scattered all over the place…” Sylvia laughed again. “Oh, dryads, look at me, I’m hopeless. I’m so sorry you have to see me like this, Johanna.”

“It’s okay,” Johanna mumbled, feeling awkward.

“Mother can’t bear going in there, either. We agreed that you were the right person for the job. If you want to, of course.”

“Yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Thank you. It doesn’t have to be now. Whenever you’re ready. Whether that’s tomorrow or five years from now, you take as much time as you need. Eurydice would want you to have her things, I know she would. Whatever she did, wherever she went, she was always thinking about you.”

“Thank you,” Johanna said, not entirely sure why she was thanking her.

Sylvia pressed a kiss to Johanna’s cheek, and Johanna closed her eyes. Sylvia resembled Eurydice so much – it was hard to look at her. “Thank you, Johanna, for loving my daughter as you did.”

When Sylvia had gone, Johanna bit down hard on her hand and screamed.

0o0o

“Oh, no, they’re gonna catch me!” Johanna cried.

“Ha!” Bear yelled. He had two dolls in his hands – one was a dragon, and one was a lion. “Be gone, villain!”

Johanna pretended to scream. Bear leapt at her, and she caught him, swinging him around before collapsing onto the bed. She tickled his belly, and he squealed. “That’s what you get, Mr Bear!”

“No!” he shrieked, squirming.

“Yes!” Johanna yelled, throwing him over her shoulder and spinning in circles.

Bear’s giggles filled the room, and for a moment everything felt okay. And then Johanna remembered what she was trying to forget, and everything came rushing back in one huge painful wave and she was gasping and couldn’t breathe and god, she hated this.

“Jo?”

“It’s okay, Bear,” she managed, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting her head in her hands. She felt Bear’s small arms wrap around her, and she tried not to cry. She couldn’t do that, not in front of little Bear, who was still too young and innocent to understand why his sister had come home so different. “It’s okay,” she said again, and she wasn’t sure who she was trying to reassure – Bear, or herself.

0o0o

It was a week after the funeral before she went to Eurydice’s room. She had thought it would take her longer to be ready, but whenever she closed her eyes she thought of all of Eurydice’s things, locked away, and then she wondered, _what if she’s stuck in that room, all alone?_ And so she knew she had to check, just to be certain, even if it was a stupid thing to hope for. Of course Eurydice wouldn’t be lying under the bed in wait, ready to jump out and scare her and laugh at how everyone had been so worried. _‘Look at you idiots! Of course I’m not dead, don’t be so stupid. I’ll never die.’_

I’ll never die. She had said that a lot. Johanna had half-believed it – she had thought for certain that Eurydice would outlive all of them.

The moment she stepped through the door, Johanna was bombarded by Eurydice’s scent, and she wanted to turn and run. Down the stairs, through the streets, into the forest and out of the district. So she closed the door behind her – if she ran, it would probably be years before she could force herself to come back.

Johanna almost laughed at herself, when she checked under the bed. But the only thing she saw was dust, and boxes of baby clothes.

For the first hour she was there, Johanna did laps around the room, touching Eurydice’s possessions. Her perfume, which she always wore too much of. Her giant posters of Finnick Odair and Cashmere Goldberg, who she always said were ‘the sexiest people who ever walked the earth, apart from you and me, of course’. Her books, most of them illegal, and her notebooks which were full of poetry – most of it awful, all of it beautiful. It felt wrong to be here without her. Johanna had never been in Eurydice’s room, without Eurydice – it felt as though she was invading her privacy.

There was a book on Eurydice’s bedside table. It must have been a recent purchase – Johanna hadn’t seen it before. “The Diary of a Young Girl,” she read aloud. It looked ancient – the pages were yellowed, and the cover was held together with copious amounts of sticky tape. There was a picture of a girl on the front – her eyes were dark and wise, and she reminded Johanna of Rowan. Eurydice hadn’t read much of it, her bookmark about a quarter of the way through, and Johanna realised with a rush of emotion that it must have been the last book Eurydice ever read from.

She flipped through it, and unfamiliar words leapt of the pages – _Germany_ and _Holland_ and _Nazi_ and _Jew_. Johanna didn’t know what any of them meant, but somehow she knew that if Eurydice had been reading it before she died, Johanna needed to read it, too. But not here. Not now. She put the book into her box, along with all of Eurydice’s poetry notebooks, and her perfume, and her posters. Her favourite pair of sneakers went in the box too – bright pink and dirty, the shoelaces frayed. Johanna wondered what shoes she had worn when she died.

She folded up Eurydice’s pyjamas, which had been dumped on the floor. They still smelt like her – Johanna put them in a plastic bag, so the smell wouldn’t fade. Her pillow went into a bag as well, as did her quilt. Johanna noticed that Eurydice’s green beaded bracelet wasn’t in the room. When they were around ten, Johanna’s mom had made her the bracelet. Eurydice had wanted one too, and so Johanna’s mother made her an identical one – she had been so proud of it, and wore it everywhere. Johanna hoped that Eurydice had the bracelet with her right now. Johanna’s fingers drifted to her own bracelet, which rarely left her wrist.

A few more of Eurydice’s books went in the box – the ones she had raved about non-stop. They were _very_ illegal, from before the dark days, but Eurydice refused to hide them. She always tried to get Johanna to read them – Johanna smiled at the memory. “You’re so uncultured, Jojo,” she always said, her words usually followed with a peck on the lips.

 _Persepolis. The Lottery and Other Stories. Ariel. Maus._ Johanna had no idea what they were about, but all of them went into the box. She knew she wouldn’t understand them, but it didn’t matter. Eurydice had connected with them, and so Johanna knew how important they must be.

There was a knock on the door, and Johanna stood. She realised her cheeks were wet – she hadn’t even noticed that she had been crying – and wiped her tears away on her sleeve.

Magnolia was standing in the doorway, holding a steaming mug. “I made you some tea.”

Johanna took the mug and sniffed, but her nose was blocked from all the crying. “What kind?”

“Green.”

Johanna scrunched up her nose. “Ew,” she said, but took a sip anyway.

“Are you alright?” Magnolia asked.

“What do you think?” she scoffed, but then felt guilty. “Are you alright?”

Magnolia sighed, and looked at the floor. “I will be.”

“Same here,” Johanna said, though she wasn’t sure if that was true. She didn’t know how she would ever be alright. The pain and guilt were eating her up inside.

“Do you – do you need any help?” Magnolia still didn’t meet Johanna’s eyes, and she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, as she was fidgeting and putting them in her pockets and tugging on her sleeves.

“I don’t know. Do you want to help?” Johanna asked, though she already knew what the answer would be.

“Not particularly,” Magnolia admitted.

Johanna gave her mentor a wry smile. “Then no, I don’t need help.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Sylvia is very grateful that you agreed to do this.”

Johanna shrugged awkwardly. “S’okay.”

Magnolia put a hand on Johanna’s upper arm. “I also appreciate it greatly.”

“It’s fine,” Johanna said. “I’m not going to get it all done today, though.”

“That is perfectly alright. Take as much time as you need. Sylvia and I both appreciate it very much.”

“You already said that.”

“Yes, well, I am saying it again, godammit.”

Johanna smiled at her. “Go on, get out of here. I know it’s killing you.”

Magnolia reached out and stroked Johanna’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said, before walking quickly away.

Johanna sighed, and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while. I don’t really have an excuse. I’ve been too busy watching TikTok and playing Sims 4. Sorry about that.
> 
> I have a headcanon that there are several different graveyards. The Tribute’s Cemetery – for victims of the Games. The Victor’s Cemetery. Cemetery One, for the ‘upper class’ of the district – super rich merchants, mayors and their relatives, and the relatives of Victors. Cemetery Two, for Peacekeepers. And Cemetery Three, for everyone else. I mean, there’s a hierarchy for everything in Panem – why not also cemeteries? Idk.
> 
> Also, I got the dates from various fan theories, that the books are set around 258 years in the future, because that would allow for enough time for the planet to get all fucked up, and for Panem to develop and for the war to happen. Also, I saw another fan theory in which the reaping happens on the 4th of July. If the Games happen like a week after the reaping, and Eurydice’s revolution happened a week after the beginning of the Games, she should have died on the 18th. The timeline’s kinda rough, but it makes sense to me.
> 
> Oh! The books. All of these books are very important to me, and I can relate a lot of the themes to the Hunger Games and the world of Panem. They’re going to become pretty relevant later on.
> 
> The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
> 
> Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
> 
> The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson
> 
> Ariel by Sylvia Plath
> 
> Maus by Art Spiegelman
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter! Also, happy holidays. Hope you have a great Christmas, Kwanzaa, Chanukah, Boxing Day, whatever you celebrate, and of course have a happy New Year. Let’s hope 2021 isn’t as much of a trainwreck as 2020!


	36. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has a nightmare. Magnolia gives her the tokens.

Johanna was running, as fast as she could. She could hear it behind her, catching up, its feet fast and heavy as it pounded the dirt – Johanna tried to run faster. But it was no use – the bear reached out one paw, bigger than her entire body, and knocked her to the ground. Johanna felt a sharp sting as its claws ripped into the flesh of her stomach – she tried to scream, but no sound came out. It wasn’t fair – she had won, she was supposed to be allowed to go home, but they still set the mutt on her.

“It’s not fair!” Johanna shouted, but it came out as a whisper, and the bear began eating her alive, its teeth as long as a grown man’s arm.

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!” someone screamed, but they were too far away. Johanna didn’t know who it was.

“Help me!” she screamed, and she didn’t know why she said that because Johanna hated asking people for help.

Blood pooled from her body, and the bear disappeared, but when Johanna tried to stand, she realised that it had eaten her legs. She tried to pull herself along with her arms but they were gone too. So she did the only thing she could and screamed, and screamed, and screamed, but it was no use. None of them wanted to help her. They were pointing and laughing, and there was Maizy, her arms ghostly and reaching out towards Johanna. There was Scythe, and Eulalie, and Elm, and Cassian, and Natania, and Marin – and there was Eurydice, standing in front of them all, her white blonde hair gooey with black blood.

“You did this to us,” Eurydice said, her eyes cold and accusing. “You killed us.”

Johanna shook her head. Her throat was dry. “No, I didn’t kill you, or Eulalie, or Elm.”

“Yes,” Eurydice said, her voice far away and cold, so cold, utterly devoid of the love and happiness Johanna remembered. “You killed all of us. You won, and that means the rest of us had to die. You killed all of us.”

“You weren’t a tribute,” Johanna whispered, shaking her head. She needed Eurydice to know that it wasn’t her fault, she needed Eurydice to know the truth. “I didn’t kill you.”

But Eurydice didn’t care about the truth. “Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have won. You killed us all.”

“No!” Johanna screamed, and Eurydice stretched out her arms until they popped out of their sockets, but if it hurt, she didn’t react. Her hands were misshapen and horrible, and they wrapped around Johanna’s throat and squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed…

“Jo!” It wasn’t Eurydice’s voice. It was Rowan’s, and Johanna sat up in bed, gasping for air and drenched in a cold sweat. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you were talking in your sleep and thrashing around… I didn’t know what to do… are you okay?” Rowan touched Johanna’s face gently, anxiously.

Johanna felt like laughing at the question – of course she wasn’t okay. But that wouldn’t be fair and it would make Rowan feel guilty for asking. So Johanna nodded and patted the mattress next to her, and Rowan took a seat. Johanna leaned into her big sister, and took deep breaths, feeling her racing heart slowly go back to normal.

“What did you dream about?” Rowan whispered, stroking Johanna’s sweaty hair out of her face.

Johanna shook her head. She could already see the look on Rowan’s face – she would be shocked, and guilty, and pitying, and she wouldn’t understand. Johanna was sick of people not understanding. So she shook her head and squeezed Rowan’s hand. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” And maybe she would. One day.

0o0o

Johanna knew she needed to talk to someone – she didn’t particularly want to, but she needed to. So she went to the one person she knew would understand, and even share, her pain. “Magnolia?”

“Yes?”

“Does it ever get better?” she asked. She had asked that question before, she was sure of it, but she needed to hear the answer again.

Magnolia seemed to sense this. She sighed, and looked far away for a moment. “In time. And it isn’t that it gets better, it is that you get better at dealing with things.”

“Oh,” Johanna said. She wanted someone to tell her that one day it would all go away. She wanted someone to reassure her that things could one day go back to normal. But say what you will about Magnolia, the old Victor wasn’t one for bullshitting.

“Nightmares?” Magnolia asked solemnly.

“Yeah,” Johanna answered, looking at her hands.

Magnolia seemed to remember something, and jumped to her feet. “I have some things for you.”

“Okay.”

“Stay here.”

Magnolia walked from the room, disappearing for a moment before returning with a small black bag. She handed it to Johanna, who looked at her mentor apprehensively.

“Go on then,” Magnolia said, gesturing to the bag.

Tentatively, Johanna tipped out the contents of the bag, ignoring Magnolia’s wince as the contents of the bag tumbled onto the table. A small photo – a rag doll – a wooden bear. Johanna wasn’t sure how to feel. She had wondered, of course, where the tokens and the bear had gone – she’d assumed that they’d gone to some Capitol museum or something.

She touched the photo, and Marin’s daughter beamed up at her. Johanna sniffed, and tried very hard to hold in her tears. That little girl was out there somewhere, wondering where her mother was – and it was all Johanna’s fault.

Magnolia put one hand over Johanna’s, bringing Johanna back from her thoughts. “Whatever you are thinking right now, stop.”

“What?” Johanna said defensively, crossing her arms.

“You did what you had to do. There’s no shame in survival.”

“I orphaned a little girl.”

“No, you didn’t,” Magnolia said. _The Capitol did,_ she mouthed, not able to say that part aloud due to the bugs. “Mags told me she would keep an eye on the girl and her aunt, make sure they had enough.”

Johanna sighed. “It doesn’t make up for what I did.”

“Johanna,” Magnolia said, tilting Johanna’s chin up. Johanna wrenched herself out of her grip. “You are not in the wrong.”

“Yes, I am,” she said stubbornly.

“Johanna, you’re not. I know the guilt you’re feeling. I have been through it myself. But you need to remember that none of this is your fault.”

“Shut up, Magnolia,” Johanna said, but Magnolia’s words did make her feel a little better regardless. She leaned into her mentor, who put an arm around her. “Magnolia,” she said suddenly, looking down at the tokens. She had an idea. She knew she’d never be able to mend what she did – but maybe she could right things a little bit.

“Yes?”

“When’s the Victory Tour?” Johanna asked, wanting to gag at the thought of it. She knew what was coming – not only would she have to face the families of the children she’d murdered, but she would meet her first ‘clients’ when she got to the Capitol. She felt sick at the very thought of what she had to do.

“A couple of months from now,” Magnolia said.

“Will I be able to get the tokens back to the families?”

Magnolia nodded. “Yes, you can give them back in person if you like, or if you would prefer, I can pass them along to their mentors. Why?”

“I have an idea. But I’ll need your help.”

0o0o

“Mom?” Johanna asked.

“Yes, my darling?” Her mother didn’t turn around.

Nervously, Johanna looked down at Maizy’s token in her hands. What she was doing would definitely be considered rebellious, and here she was dragging her mother into things. “Can you help me with something?”

“Of course.”

“I need you to help me with some sewing.” Everyone in her family knew how to sew – but her mother was the only one who was any good at it. “Can you do unnoticeable stitches?”

“I can try. What do you need me to sew?”

Wordlessly, Johanna held out the rag doll. She had sliced open the side as neatly as possible, and had taken out the stuffing, replacing it with as many paper notes and coins she could fit. “It would be best if you didn’t say anything.”

“I understand,” her mother said. The day after she got home, Johanna had insisted they go for a family picnic in the forest. She had told them what Magnolia had warned her about on the train – that the house, and likely everywhere in their new village, was bugged, and if they needed to say anything even mildly rebellious they had better do it somewhere they couldn’t be heard.

Johanna didn’t want to meet the families, and she was sure that they wouldn’t want to meet her. A part of her wanted to give the tokens back in person, and apologise – but she didn’t know if that was a good idea.

“Thanks. I was very careless with it.”

“Yes, I can see that,” said her mother, looking at her warily. “You should be more careful.”

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! I’ve been away camping, and the wifi is shit. Also, it’s very hard to write because we’re all squashed in a tiny caravan, and oh my god my little sisters are loud. Like, burst-your-eardrums kind of loud. Anyway, happy new year! 2020 is finally dead! Now if only Covid would fuck off.
> 
> Also, sorry not much has been happening, plot-wise. I have a few more chapters to go before the victory tour, and that’s when things are going to get a bit more interesting. Bear with me!


	37. Blight: Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blight and Magnolia argue about Johanna and Eurydice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Seventeen by Sharon Van Etten and Norah Jones

“The girl is angry, Blight.”

“But do you think that’s enough? Do you truly think that’s enough for her to put everything at risk?”

“I suppose not. But with a little encouragement–“

“That’s not fair, Magnolia. You of all people should realise that.”

“Me of all people?”

“You know who I’m talking about.”

“My granddaughter knew the risks. She knew what could happen.”

“Yes, I know she did, but Johanna has her family to worry about. Eurydice knew that you would be protected, and by extension Sylvia. Johanna is a lot less influential than you, and you know Snow won’t hesitate when it comes to punishment.”

“Eurydice was careless, and believed that me being a Victor made her untouchable.”

“You just said she knew the risks.”

“And she did. However, she also believed that they were just that – risks. I don’t think it occurred to her that anything would actually go wrong.”

“You talk about her like she was just a stupid child.”

“She was, Blight. I love her with my whole heart, but what she did was stupid.”

“It’s not in good taste to talk about the dead like that.”

“Fuck off, Blight. You don’t get to talk about her like that. You did not raise her.”

“You wouldn’t let me go near her!”

“They would have sent her to the Games if they found out! The child of a Victor, whose mother is the child of a Victor? They would be like lions at lunchtime. You know how excited they get at the legacy tributes – can you imagine how they would have reacted if they knew about Eurydice’s parentage?”

“You could have at least told her.”

“Sylvia was going to.”

“She’s ashamed.”

“She got pregnant at seventeen.”

“I just wanted to know my daughter, Magnolia. Now I’ll never get the chance to. The least I can do is make sure that Johanna is safe. That’s all I can do for Eurydice now.”

“Blight, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Magnolia. I just wanted to know her – I understand why that wasn’t possible, but I wanted to know her.”

“I know, Blight, I know.”

“Are you going to tell Johanna?”

“Perhaps I should.”

“She would be infuriated if she found out we were keeping things from her.”

“She is infuriated at everything. She is angry at the world.”

“Good point.”

“I will tell her one day. Now is not the time.”

“You’re probably right about that.”

“Of course I am, Blight. I am right about everything.”

“I don’t think you’re right about Johanna.”

“No?”

“No. I think it’s unfair that you would even consider asking her to rebel – she lost Eurydice, of course she won’t risk losing her family as well.”

“You put Alyssa at risk by being part of it, just as I do with Sylvia.”

“That’s different. They’re adults. They’re both part of it too. Alyssa knew what she was getting into when she married me. And with Johanna, there are children involved. She’s a child herself, Magnolia!”

“She is a child no longer, Blight. The Games kill children, even the ones who survive.”

“I know that.”

“Besides, her sister is eighteen, soon to be nineteen. Not a child.”

“What about the little boy? How’s he meant to be part of it?”

“Blight. You idiot. Everyone is a part of the rebellion, whether they know it or not. It is something that involves our entire society, our entire nation. We don’t get a choice whether we want to be part of it or not.”

“We get a choice whether or not we want to play an active role in it.”

“Yes, and that is the choice I am giving Johanna.”

“I still don’t think it’s fair. She’s so filled with guilt already; she’ll feel like she doesn’t have a choice. You didn’t ask me until years after my Games.”

“It is different now, Blight. War is upon us and there is no time to wait. Can’t you feel it?”

“Of course I can feel it.”

“Then you understand why we can’t waste any time at all. Johanna will be invaluable to the cause. Her anger – no, her _rage_ – we need it. She is a born warrior, Blight. We need her.”

“I know we do. I just wish that she could have more time to heal.”

“When Snow is dead and the government overthrown, she can have all the time in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, drama. I liked writing this chapter, it’s obviously different to how I wrote the rest but I really enjoyed the process.


	38. Inherently Cruel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna reads Eurydice's books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Soft Currents by Alexandra Saviour

“So he hung himself,” Johanna said, looking at Cypress’ grave. “I didn’t know that.”

“We don’t know exactly what happened,” Oscar said, looking down at it too. Johanna wondered how he must be feeling – Cypress had been his friend. “We think that after Myrtle and – and –“ He looked at her guiltily, not wanting to say the name.

Johanna rolled her eyes. She was sick of people acting as though she might break at the slightest mention of Eurydice’s name. Her girlfriend had died, which had shattered Johanna into a million pieces – why would her name hurt Johanna even more? “Eurydice,” she said pointedly.

Oscar bobbed his head. “Right, Eurydice. We think that the guilt made him, made him – well, he wasn’t right anyway. The Games affected him more deeply than they ever affected me. I think he’s been on the brink for a while, and this was the tipping point.”

Johanna thought about tall, quiet Cypress, and wondered what her tipping point would be. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You’re one of us now, Johanna. Whether you like it or not.”

Johanna wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what he meant.

0o0o

Johanna began reading the books. She didn’t think it was possible, but with each page she turned her anger grew. She had finished _Maus,_ and was partway through _The Diary of a Young Girl._

She learnt all about this war – World War II – and the people it affected. There were words that were unfamiliar on her tongue, but it didn’t matter, because Johanna was angry. People had never been different. Maybe a society like theirs hadn’t existed before, but that didn’t matter – people had always been cruel, had always been killing each other. People hadn’t learned from all the mistakes that had been made, and Johanna guessed that meant they never would. It filled her with rage, because she knew now that people were inherently cruel. If people were born good, as Eurydice always said, they wouldn’t have to be taught how to be good.

 _So what’s the point?_ She wondered, running her fingers over the dog-eared pages of the diary. _What’s the point of fighting anymore?_ She didn’t know. She couldn’t think of a single reason for being alive other than her family.

“It’s not fucking fair!” she shrieked, and threw the book across the room. It thudded against the wall, and it was so old and worn that the cover fell off and several pages came out. For some reason, this made Johanna burst into tears, and she threw herself onto her bed and screamed.

She hadn’t realised how much noise she’d been making, but apparently her father had heard. He came rushing into the room. “Johanna? What on earth are you doing?”

“Da!” she sobbed. He pulled her close to him, cradling her the way he used to when she was tiny. “Da, it’s not fair!”

“What’s not fair, Joey?” he asked. He hadn’t called her Joey since she was a kid, and a part of her wanted to smile at the nickname. But the other part was too angry to smile.

“People. Society. It’s always been like this. There have been other wars.” She mumbled that last part into her chest, muffling her words just enough that the bugs wouldn’t be able to pick up on it – it wouldn’t do to get herself into any more trouble.

“What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Eurydice’s books, Da,” she sniffed. “She got them at the Acorn. They’re from before… before…”

“Before the Dark Days?” he said quietly.

She nodded. “It’s always been like this, and Da, I don’t know what the point is anymore.”

“The point?”

“I don’t know why I’m alive!” she said, choking out the words and realising they were true. “I really don’t want to be alive, and what’s the point if I can’t change anything about anything?!”

“Joey, you don’t have to change anything.”

“Yes, I do!”

“No you don’t.”

“You don’t understand!” she shouted, scrambling off his lap and glaring at him.

“No, I don’t,” he agreed, “and there’s no point in pretending I do. I haven’t gone through what you’ve been through. I never will, and a part of me is sorry about that because I know I’ll never truly be able to help you.” Johanna sniffed. “But Joey, what you went through is hundreds of times more than what the average person does. Do you know how amazing it is, that you’re still here, still angry, still you? It’s incredible, Joey, and I love you so much and I want you to know that I will always be right here with you. I might not be able to help you, but I’ll never leave you. Neither will Mom, or Rowan, or Bear, or Magnolia.”

“That’s the point,” Johanna whispered.

“That’s the point,” her father agreed. “Why don’t you clean yourself up, and we’ll go for a walk?”

0o0o

The next morning, she woke to find that Eurydice’s books were gone. “Where are Eurydice’s books?” Johanna demanded, bursting into the lounge room. She had torn her room apart looking for them, but they seemed to have disappeared as she slept.

Her father sighed, and looked at her sadly. Johanna hated it when people looked at her like that – like she was a pitiful child – and it only made her more angry. “Jo, I’m sorry, but you’re not in the right headspace to read them right now. They upset you too much.”

“Give them back!” she said. She was tempted to stamp her foot, but didn’t want to come across as a spoiled brat.

“No,” he said firmly. “Joey, I’m still your Da, and I am confiscating those books until you’re well enough to read them.”

Johanna was so angry. How dare he take her things away? Eurydice’s things? Those books were the only thing she had left of her girlfriend, and he had taken them away? “I’m a Victor!” she shrieked. “I came home, give me my fucking books!”

Bear clamped his hands over his ears and began to cry. He had never liked yelling.

Her father put an arm around Bear, shaking his head at her. “Johanna, you’re scaring your brother.”

Johanna screamed once more, and wanted to shove her father into the table. She managed to stop herself, and ran. She was in her pyjamas and didn’t have any shoes on, and the cold ground stung her feet, but she didn’t care. She pushed past Rowan, returning after a shopping trip, and ignored the shouts of her parents behind her. She couldn’t do anything but run.

Her feet took her to the forest. She hadn’t been back there since getting home – it reminded her too much of the arena. But Johanna had forgotten how calming the scent of pine was. She grabbed a hatchet from the shelf – she was breaking protocol, and that would usually reward her a whipping, but she didn’t care. Let them whip her.

The tree was huge. They never had the manpower to fell it – it would take quite possibly more than ten lumberjacks to bring it down, and even then it would be too dangerous to attempt – there was no predicting which way the tree might fall. It could crush a whole workgroup if they weren’t careful. Johanna didn’t care. One, two, three, she counted, swinging her axe into the tree. Four, five, six. She hadn’t made a dent in it.

She threw herself into the old rhythm of work. She had forgotten how much she loved it, being in the forest with nothing but an axe in her hands. She could feel blisters on her hands and splinters in her bare feet, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the tree, and the axe, and the familiar motions of a simpler time.

The tree didn’t budge, but that didn’t matter. The only thing she had to show from her hours of attacking it was a thin line, perhaps as deep as a pencil, which was nothing. The tree was so big in diameter that it took five people to wrap their arms around it. Johanna took the axe back to the storage shed, limping as the adrenaline wore off. Her hands were red raw and covered in painful blisters – Johanna tried to close her fist, and hissed at the pain. Her feet were shredded and absolutely full of splinters – there was a reason why the lumberjacks wore thick leather boots into the forest. Somehow, Johanna had to get herself home.

“Hey, are you okay?” someone said behind her.

Johanna didn’t stop swinging the axe. “M’ fine.”

“Are you sure about that, because you really don’t seem fine,” they said. “C’mere, I’ll help you.”

“Fuck off, I don’t want any help.”

“I know you don’t want it, but to be honest I don’t really care. If you die here we’re bound to get wolves, so shut the fuck up and let me help you.”

Johanna dropped the axe, crossed her arms, turned around and glared. Before her stood a tall girl, maybe a couple of years older than Rowan, with sparkly brown eyes and a smirk to rival Johanna’s own. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hollis,” said the girl. “And you’re Johanna Mason.”

Johanna scoffed. “Whoop de fucking doo, I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, I love you,” Hollis laughed, shaking her head.

“No you don’t,” Johanna said. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and she tried not to wince at the pain in her hands and feet. Maybe a little help wouldn’t hurt.

“You’re right,” Hollis agreed, “you seem like a bitch.” She crossed the clearing and offered an arm to Johanna, who hesitantly took it.

“Why are you helping me then?” Johanna asked, limping her way along.

Hollis shrugged. “Like I said, wolves. Also, Eurydice was my friend.”

Johanna raised her eyebrows suspiciously. “Really.”

“Yeah,” said Hollis. “Well, kinda, I guess co-workers is more accurate, if you want to get technical. She loved you a lot. She talked about you all the time.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Johanna.

“You don’t?” Hollis said, her tone mocking. “That’s alright. I don’t really care, to be honest.”

“You’re a bitch too.”

“So I’ve been told. But I _am_ helping you get home.”

“You said you were only helping because of the wolves.”

Hollis laughed. “Eurydice never said how annoying you were.”

“Eurydice never mentioned a friend called Hollis. Or a co-worker called Hollis. Or a job.”

“Touche.”

They were silent after that. Hollis walked Johanna all the way to her door, and even rung the doorbell for her. “Thanks,” Johanna mumbled.

“You don’t need to thank me. Like I said, I don’t want the wolves to get in.”

Rowan answered the door. “Oh my god, Johanna, where the fuck did you go?” She rushed to Johanna’s other side, and she and Hollis walked her inside. “Magnolia, she’s back!”

“You idiot girl,” Magnolia said, helping Johanna inside. “Come, put her on the couch, let’s fix these feet.”

“I can walk,” Johanna snapped, pushing Magnolia’s hands away. “I don’t want your help.” She hopped from foot to foot over to the couch, ignoring Rowan and Magnolia’s laughs.

Hollis laughed too. “Are you sure, buddy? Because I had to help you walk home.”

Johanna just scowled at her. “Where’s Mom and Da?” she asked, turning to Magnolia.

“Out looking for you, you fool,” Magnolia replied, shaking her head.

“Do you want me to go find them and send them back?” Hollis asked.

“Yes, thank you Hollis. Rowan, perhaps you should go looking as well. Bear can help, he is very capable.” Bear smiled proudly at that, puffing out his chest.

“I’m not a fucking baby, leave me alone,” Johanna protested, as Magnolia helped her prop up her feet, though she didn’t fight too hard. She _was_ in a lot of pain, after all.

“Johanna, I had to help you walk home,” Hollis called from the hallway. “Maybe you’re not a baby, but you are an injured dumbass.”

“Fuck you, Hollis,” Johanna snapped.

Hollis only laughed. “You’re welcome, and it was lovely to meet you, goodbye.”

0o0o

Rowan returned with their parents about twenty minutes later. Johanna was sitting on the couch, her hands and feet bundled in bandages.

Her mother reached her first, pressing a flurry of kisses on Johanna’s face. “Johanna, you can’t just run off like that!”

“I can do whatever I want,” Johanna said. She was still extremely pissed off about the books – it felt oddly like her father had betrayed her. Her mother didn’t deserve Johanna’s wrath, she knew that, but she obviously knew about the books as well.

Her mother sighed. “Stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not a kid, stop talking to me like I am!” Johanna was so sick of people treating her as though she might break. Yes, she woke up screaming every day, and yes, sometimes she thought she was back in the arena, but that didn’t mean she was made of glass. Even if it felt that way sometimes.

“You’re being immature,” her mother said.

Her father shook his head. “We were worried sick.”

“Give me my books back,” Jo said stubbornly, crossing her arms. The books felt like the last thing she had connecting her to Eurydice – when she read them, touched the pages Eurydice had touched, read Eurydice’s scribbled notes in the margins – it felt like Eurydice was right there with her. She didn’t just want the books, she _needed_ them.

“Fine. I’m sorry, Jo,” said her father. He kissed the top of her head, and Johanna tried very hard not to smile – she didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of getting her out of her ‘mood’ as they were referred to. “I just didn’t want you to upset yourself.”

“I won’t,” she said, realising that her father was genuine in his worry. He had just been doing what he thought was best. She was still pissed off, though. “I’m sorry for running away,” she said to her parents. “Didn’t mean to freak you out like that.”

“It’s okay, darling,” her mother said, putting an arm around Johanna’s shoulders and kissing her cheek. Johanna put her head on her mother’s shoulder – how many times in the arena had she wanted one last hug from her mother? “We were just worried.”

“Don’t do it again,” said her father.

“Don’t steal my books again,” Johanna retorted.

Her father offered his hand for her to shake, and she took it. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still on holiday, and the wifi is so shitty but currently have a brief patch of it so I’m updating everything in a rush before it drops out again. There’s such nice weather – it’s been 30 degrees almost every day! I am *extremely* sunburnt. At least I don’t look like a ghost anymore.
> 
> I really enjoy writing these happier (maybe just less depressing) chapters. Also, I’ve almost finished writing this, I’m about five chapters ahead! So far it’s looking like there will be about 44-45 chapters. I can’t believe it’s nearly over.


	39. Goodbye, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna leaves for her Victory Tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Society’s Child by Janis Ian

**District Seven, Victors’ Village**

After much deliberation, Johanna had decided that wood carving would be her talent. She didn’t really know how to do much else, besides throw axes around and cuss people out, both of which the Capitol had already seen her do. Besides, she enjoyed it. Carving required her to focus on only the knife and the piece of wood, and it distracted her from all the things she was trying to forget. Most of the time.

Her team would be arriving in about a week for the Victory Tour, and Johanna would have to show all the wood sculptures she had made. There were a whole pack of bears, which she hated to look at. She intended to burn them once she had shown them off. There was a rabbit, and a dog which was modelled after Cubby (who had been a great comfort to Johanna since arriving home). There was a pack of wolves. There were also the sculptures she didn’t want to show – the people in her nightmares, their arms unnaturally long, stretching out towards her. And a mermaid, her face still and serious and awfully familiar.

“They are beautiful,” Magnolia remarked, picking up one of the bears and examining it closely. “How long do they take to make?”

“Couple of weeks,” Johanna said. “I work on a few at a time, though.”

“This is the one you did in the arena, correct?” Magnolia asked.

Johanna nodded. It was also the carving that she hated the most – it took her back, reminded her of how it had felt, sitting up a tree with nothing to do but make miniatures of the mutts which had almost killed her. “Yeah.”

“It is more emotive than the rest,” said Magnolia thoughtfully, running a finger over the bear’s fangs, over its ridged back.

Johanna raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“It seems rawer, more real.”

“Okay?” Johanna said, not really sure how to reply to that. Magnolia had obviously been watching too much artsy Capitol TV. Johanna thought she should be wearing a beret, to really sell the ‘Victor turned tortured artist’ angle Magnolia apparently thought she should go for.

Magnolia set the bear down. “Which ones are you going to show to the Capitol?”

“The animals,” Johanna replied softly. “Not the people, or the mermaid.” Because they weren’t for the Capitol to see. They weren’t allowed to see the figures in the nightmares they gave her, and they weren’t allowed to see the dead girl from Four. Not again. Not ever.

“Is this Marin?” Magnolia asked quietly. She picked up the mermaid, and Johanna was tempted, for a second, to snatch the mermaid out of her mentor’s hands and lock it away forever.

Johanna’s breath caught in her throat. She looked away. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to burn the bears.”

Magnolia shook her head. “They won’t like that.” She didn’t say who ‘they’ were, but Johanna knew she was referring to the Capitol. It was always the Capitol. “They will be expecting you to sell them in the Capitol.”

The Capitol had taken enough away from her. She didn’t want to give them her carvings as well. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“Well, you should.”

“Whatever,” Johanna snapped. She gathered the wooden figures back into their box, sealing the lid on tightly, locking them out of sight. “I won’t burn them, then, happy?”

Magnolia smiled. “Extremely.”

“Good.”

“So,” Magnolia said, changing the subject. “I imagine you are very excited to see Nona again.”

Johanna groaned. Her team would be arriving tomorrow, as she had to be interviewed before leaving for her Victory Tour. She was not looking forward to it in the slightest. “God, no. I hate her so much.”

“Yes, me too. She has been District Seven’s stylist for twenty years now. Twenty years too long, if you ask me.”

“Can’t you fire her?”

“Not my place. Besides, we have managed to gain several Victors despite her incompetence. Blight, Oscar, Cypress, you.”

“I wonder how many more Victors we would have if we had a halfway decent stylist,” Johanna wondered. Of course, a good stylist didn’t guarantee success. After all, Johanna had won despite Nona’s incompetence. But having a good stylist certainly helped.

“Probably many more,” Magnolia said.

Johanna thought she was correct. District Seven had many advantages over the other districts – in fact, they were the most successful non-Career district. After all, everyone in the district had experience with the outdoors, since Seven was covered in forest. And most kids had experience with axes, because the youngest you could start working as a lumberjack was nine, though some kids were taught even earlier due to their parents working in the forests. Seven also had the most Victors of any non-Career district – six compared to the average of three or four for most districts. It was strange that they didn’t have better stylists – but was it, really? Snow probably didn’t want them to be successful. Seven had a history of being rebellious, after all, and he probably didn’t want them to have a lot of Victors because that gave the impression of ‘getting away with it’. It was no wonder that they’d been stuck with Nona and Hadrian (Seven’s other stylist) for twenty years.

She supposed that meant that Marin was supposed to win, not her. It wasn’t surprising, when she thought about it. Marin would have been more of a classic Victor. She had been beautiful, and she knew her stuff – but more importantly, she would have played by the rules. Because that was what Snow wanted from his Victors, wasn’t it? He wanted them to play his little game. Johanna knew that she was supposed to be dead, and she knew what it meant now that she was alive. It meant that she had to play his game for the rest of her life, if she wanted her family to survive. It meant that until the day she died, Snow would own her.

0o0o

Arabella, Nona and the prep team arrived at the crack of dawn, with many honking car horns and shouts to announce their presence. There was also a Capitol camera crew, wide-eyed as they took in the district. They must have been new, as they acted like they’d never seen the place before. Johanna groaned, slammed her window closed, and covered her head with her pillow, willing them all to go away.

Magnolia bustled into her room. “Get up, you log.”

Johanna threw a pillow at her. “No. Fuck off. Don’t want to.”

She dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, where her prep team were waiting. They attacked her in a barrage of hugs and _‘we missed you_ ’s and ‘ _oh, the state of your skin_ ’s and ‘ _have you not slept at all_ ’s.

“Can you _please_ let me piss in peace?” she asked, dropping her pants and sitting on the toilet. They shrieked and rushed out of the room, as she knew they would. For people who enjoyed watching children die in gruesome ways, Capitolites were awfully squeamish about bodily functions.

After Johanna had been bathed and waxed and poked and prodded all over, it was time for her to face Nona. Her stylist greeted her with a glare, which she returned. “Apollonia was right, your skin is just terrible. Have you not heard of moisturiser, girl?”

“My name is Johanna, and no, I have not, what’s moisturiser?”

Nona groaned. “Imbecile.”

“Geriatric warthog.” 

0o0o

An hour later, Johanna was dressed and ready to be filmed. Well, everyone else said she was ready, but she sure as hell didn’t think so.

“Alright,” said the camera woman, who had purple hair and violet eyes to match. “Johanna, all you need to do is explain a little about these pieces. Your process, your inspiration, and of course the meaning.”

“The meaning?” Johanna asked. She hadn’t really thought about the meaning. They were just bears, and wolves, and fucked up nightmare-figures to her. Why did everything have to have a meaning? Couldn’t some things just _be_?

“Yes, darling, the meaning. Then if you can walk us through how you did them – maybe demonstrate…”

Johanna tuned out the rest. “This is a bear,” she said. “I made a bunch of them. They’re like the ones that tried to eat me. The Gamemakers’ll like them.”

She heard Rowan let out a snort of laughter (which she hastily disguised as a cough after seeing Arabella glare at her), and smirked at the camera. “This is a rabbit. This is a couple of wolves. This is a dog. Okay, that’s it, I’m done.” She crossed her arms and didn’t say another word.

The broadcast ended, and Johanna grinned at them all.

“Could you have given us a little to work with?” Arabella hissed, swooping in and shaking Johanna by the shoulders.

Johanna slapped her hands away. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

0o0o

Her family and Sylvia came to the station to say goodbye. Blight, Oscar, and Magnolia would be coming to on the tour as well, but Jamie wasn’t (citing old age and bad knees as an excuse, though Magnolia was the same age and was coping just fine) and so he came to say goodbye as well.

She didn’t want to leave them again. There was a little voice in the back of her mind telling her not to ever let them out of her sight. She wanted to shrink them down and lock them away in a box, away from the eyes of the Capitol, where they would be safe.

But of course she couldn’t. And as she hugged her family close, and she tried to memorise their faces and what they smelt like, Johanna wondered if they would ever be safe again.

“We’ll see you soon, okay?” her father said firmly, holding her upper arms. She nodded, and he kissed her forehead before pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you, Joey.”

“Love you.”

“Magnolia will look after you,” said her mother, cupping Johanna’s fce in her hands and looking into her eyes. Johanna saw herself reflected into her mother’s eyes – she looked scared, and tried to look a little stronger. For herself. For her family. She straightened up a little and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of her perfume. “Make sure you eat.”

“I promise,” she said, and she couldn’t help but be reminded of saying goodbye all that time ago, before she left for the Games. The Games were over now, so why did Johanna feel so scared all over again?

“That’s my good girl.”

Bear hugged her around the waist and buried his face in her stomach. Johanna kissed the top of his head and smoothed back his dark curls, breathed in the slightly sour smell of his hair (because Bear hated bathing). “I’ll see you soon, okay, Bear?”

Rowan didn’t say anything, she just held Johanna close and kissed her on the cheek. Johanna was glad, because she knew if she tried to speak she’d burst into tears, and she _really_ didn’t want to do that.

Magnolia ushered her away, and Johanna blinked away tears because dammit, she couldn’t cry, not now, not why she was being filmed. She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring herself or her family.

She kept them in her sight for as long as she could, before they were around the corner and she couldn’t see them anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda short, but oh well. Also, fun news – I’ve finished writing this story! I got it all done when I was sick in bed, I had to get a Covid test and everything, but it was negative, thank god. How I got a cold in 40 degree heat I don’t know.
> 
> Unrelated side note. Do any of you have super frizzy hair? Because I do and it’s driving me mad, I have no idea what to do with it. Brushing it only makes it worse? I look like Hagrid (except really really short and twiggy). Anyway, if you have any tips I would really appreciate it and I’ll give you a hypothetical hundred dollars. What does this have to do with this fic, you ask? Fuck all.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	40. Victory Tour Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna goes to districts Twelve through Four, and confronts the families of Maizy and Marin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

**Somewhere between Districts Seven and Eight, Train: Johanna Mason**

“We’re going to Eight first, all the way up to Twelve. Then we’ll double back and go to the rest, and finally the Capitol!” Arabella said. “You know, saving the best for last. Oh, it’s so exciting!”

“Arabella, do us all a favour and stick your head in the toilet,” Magnolia said rudely.

Arabella scowled. It didn’t even make Johanna laugh. Nothing made her laugh any more. She knew what was coming. She knew what would happen when they got to the Capitol.

**DISTRICT EIGHT**

District Eight was as different to District Seven as Johanna could have imagined. Instead of clear blue skies and fresh-smelling air, the air was choked with factory fumes and smoke, the sky grey. In fact, everything was grey, except for the brightly coloured fabric being made in the factories. Johanna found it interesting looking at the people of the district – there seemed to be two main social groups, factory workers and shopkeepers/tailors. The factory workers had pale, almost ashen skin, and tended to have brown hair and narrow features. The shopkeepers were more varied, but they tended to have darker features, although there was the odd redhead. Back in Seven, most people had brown hair and light skin, apart from the occasional blonde. Johanna wondered whether this was due to the fact that people couldn’t marry outside their district, so everyone tended to look similar.

She remembered Bernina from training, but had nothing to do with Merino. Even though she hadn’t killed either of them, their families glared at her, obviously wishing it was their child on the stage instead of Johanna. She couldn’t blame them. Sometimes she wished it was someone else as well.

Cecelia, Woof, and Bobbie were friendly, and seemed to get along quite well with Magnolia.

“You’ll always have a family with we Victors,” Cecelia said, squeezing her hand before she got onto the train. “Remember that.”

**DISTRICT NINE**

All of District Nine hated her, she could tell. She had killed both their tributes, after all. She gulped at the sight of Maizy’s family – about twenty people were crammed onto the tiny platform, all of them with vivid red hair and dimples. Parents, brothers, aunts and uncles, and Johanna could even see a little old man at the front, glaring perhaps more than the rest.

“I commend your tributes for their sacrifice. Maizy and Scythe fought bravely and dutifully for their country,” she said. Her voice was as monotonous as it had ever been – she hoped that if she didn’t put any emotion into her voice, perhaps she could conceal the things she so desperately wanted to say.

Scythe’s brother looked exactly like him. Exactly. Just as tall, muscled… they had the same eyes, same nose, same chin. If she didn’t know better, Johanna would have thought it was Scythe himself, back to haunt her. To get his revenge. Her throat went thick and her voice cracked, and Johanna knew she had to get away before she burst into hysterical tears. She didn’t want to cry on camera, not ever again. She had already given them so much, she was determined not to give them one more tear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, stepping away from the microphone and rushing inside.

0o0o

Maizy’s parents, Elizabeth and Barley, looked confused as to why Johanna wanted to talk to them. They were escorted into the room by two Peacekeepers, both of them glaring at her. Johanna was glad that Maizy’s siblings hadn’t joined them.

“Here,” she said. She slid the little doll across the table towards them. Maizy’s parents looked at her dully.

“Why are you giving this to us?” Barley demanded. “You think we want a doll? We want our daughter back.”

“I’m sorry. Please take it.”

“Unbelievable. You should be ashamed of yourself, Miss Mason,” he said, spitting out the last two words as if her name tasted bitter on his lips. He stormed from the room, his chair falling backwards, slamming the door behind him. Elizabeth looked after him impassively, coldly. Not at all the way Johanna’s mother looked at her father.

“I don’t blame you,” said Elizabeth.

She didn’t know what she expected, but not that. “What?”

The woman looked like an older version of Maizy, with her sleek red hair and her upturned nose. She glowered at Johanna, just as Maizy had, and Johanna was struck with the sudden urge to run. “I said, girl, I don’t blame you. I strongly dislike you, don’t get me wrong. But it was that little shithead from Five and the girl from Two who killed her, not you.”

“I stole her medicine.”

“Yeah, you did, and fuck you by the way. But Maizy, god rest her soul, should have known better than to trust you with it. You didn’t kill her.”

“Thank you,” said Johanna, realising how much the words meant to her. Especially from Maizy’s mother herself.

“Don’t thank me,” Elizabeth said, looking at Johanna with eyes full of hate. Tired, sad eyes. “I don’t want your gratitude. I want my daughter back, and I don’t know why you thought a doll would make it better.”

“I know. But I want you to take it.”

“I’ll take it. Only because Maizy would have wanted me to. I don’t want it to end up in some Capitol museum or some shit. She’d hate that.”

“You should be careful with the stitches,” Johanna said, widening her eyes and hoping Elizabeth would catch on. “They’re delicate.”

“Stitches?” asked the woman, looking confused.

“Yes. See, on the side here. The doll had a rip, and I had to re-stuff it, see,” Johanna said. She squeezed the doll, and the paper notes inside crackled. Elizabeth’s eyes widened – she had heard it. “My mother stitched it up. But be careful, they’ll definitely break if you’re not careful.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” said the woman slowly. She reached for the doll, and brought it to her face, sniffing. “It still smells like her,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Johanna said. “I know nothing can fix what I did, but I hope the doll helps a little. Goodbye.”

She stood up, and left the room before Elizabeth had the chance to reply.

0o0o

Wheaton and Brandy were Nine’s only Victors, and both of them regarded Johanna with distaste. They thought she was cowardly for what she did to Maizy, and resented her for killing Scythe, who had so nearly won. They weren’t as icy with Magnolia, though, and sent her home with many bottles of beer.

She enjoyed the dinner Nine prepared for her – mainly because she had an excuse to get drunk out of her absolute mind, being in the grain district. Magnolia didn’t say anything when she stumbled back to the train at three in the morning.

**DISTRICT TEN**

Natania had only a father and a younger sister, their faces pinched with grief and hatred. The boy, who Johanna learned was called Angus, had a large family, with three brothers who looked a lot like him. To her surprise, District Ten didn’t hate her as much as she thought they would. Natania’s father and sister threw Johanna a few dirty looks, but they were mostly busy glaring at the Angus’s family, who tried to act indifferent. Johanna wondered why, and recalled Natania brutally torturing Angus to death – maybe there was some dark history between the two families.

The livestock district was beautiful. It was covered in luscious paddocks, the grass bright green even though the sun was viciously hot. Johanna found it fascinating, looking at all the animals – she had never seen a sheep or a pig in the flesh before. A few of the richer people in her district had cows, though. Most of the people were muscled and tanned from working out in the sun all day, and Johanna thought it was strange that their tributes didn’t do as well, because unlike the more industrial districts they at least had experience with labour.

Ten’s only two Victors, Buck and Seamus, were friendly despite the fact that Johanna had killed Natania. “What happens in the Games, stays in the Games,” said Seamus, slapping Johanna’s back.

Buck taught Johanna how to use a lasso, which she was shit at but thought it was fun anyway. She’d seen many District Ten tributes use a lasso in the Games, and remembered Buck using a lasso made of vines to trap the Careers one by one before slashing their throats. His Games were often rerun, and he seemed to be quite popular in the Capitol for an Outer district Victor. Seamus was ancient, having won sometime in the twenties.

Johanna departed Ten feeling oddly light – it had been a nice experience after the stresses of Nine.

**DISTRICT ELEVEN**

The first thing that struck Johanna about District Eleven was the fence that surrounded it, and the sheer number of Peacekeepers – there were far more than there were in Seven. Most of the people had darker skin and hair, though there were a fair portion of people with olive skin. Like with Nine, there didn’t seem to be any distinct social class. Everyone seemed just as poor as each other.

Johanna remembered Lynx, who had made it quite far into the Games. The girl, Arvilla, had died in the Bloodbath. Interestingly enough, both kids were community home kids, with one woman representing both of them instead of families. She seemed bored, like she’d done this before, and Johanna wondered if community kids were reaped more often.

Seeder, Chaff, Orchis and old Clementine were friendly and welcoming. Johanna liked them very much. Magnolia seemed to be old friends with Clementine, who had won the third Games. Seeder sent them away with a basket full of fresh fruit and assorted jams, and Chaff gave Magnolia a bottle of homemade wine, which she seemed very pleased with.

**DISTRICT TWELVE**

District Twelve’s people seemed to be either fair skinned and light haired, or olive skinned and dark haired, much like some of the people in District Eleven. Similar to Eight, the air was choked with smog and coal, but the district seemed to be far less industrial. In Eight, most of the people had lived in apartment buildings near the factories, but in Twelve most people lived in houses, like Seven. The guide showed Johanna the meadow, which she liked very much. There weren’t many wide-open spaces in Seven, as most of the district was covered in forest.

Haymitch was Twelve’s only living Victor, and seemed nice enough, though that could have been due to the fact that Magnolia gave him some of the beer she’d gotten from Nine.

Magnolia and Haymitch got along very well, and had a drinking contest. Magnolia won, as Haymitch had already been drunk when they started.

**DISTRICT SIX**

Six was the next district on the agenda. It seemed very similar to Eight, though it was even more colourless, and its people all seemed unhealthy, with grey skin and skeletal features. A good portion of them seemed to be half-dead. Most of the people had pale, almost grey skin, and Johanna wondered if this was because of the shitty air they were constantly breathing in.

Iris and Coile were Six’s only Victors, and were both as high as kites when they got there. Johanna hoped she would never end up like them, though she couldn’t blame them for using Morphling to cope – she wondered what it would be like to dull everything. The pain, the memories. She was tempted to try, but Magnolia steered her well away from the shady back alleys where skeletal drug dealers roamed.

**DISTRICT FIVE**

Surprisingly, Johanna liked District Five. She had been expecting it to be industrial like Eight and Six, but there were a lot of lakes and it was on the coast. Johanna could see the ocean from the Justice Building. There was a huge dam, right in the middle of the district, and the more industrial areas with factories were far away from where people lived, so they weren’t constantly breathing in fumes.

“This is where most of Panem’s power comes from,” the guide said proudly, and began explaining something called ‘hydroelectricity’. Johanna had no idea what that was, and tried to look interested even though she was bored to death.

There was a distinct class divide in the district. The power-plant workers seemed to be mostly fair-skinned and red or blonde haired, and seemed a bit healthier than the factory workers, who were dark skinned and dark haired. Johanna was told that the factory workers made a lot of electrical devices used in the Capitol, and that they had a lot in common with District Three, apart from all the water.

Cassian had two little girls and a youngish woman representing him. The girls, his sisters, were glaring daggers at Johanna, though his mother just seemed tired.

Eulalie had been a community home kid, and the man representing her looked bored, just like the woman in Eleven. Johanna saw Eulalie every night in her nightmares – she saw her topple over time and time again, an arrow sticking out of her back.

District Five only had two Victors. A strange woman called Rosemary, and a twitchy man, who didn’t stop drinking the whole time they were there. He didn’t even introduce himself, though Magnolia told her that his name was Toby.

**DISTRICT FOUR**

District Four had been the district she was least looking forward to. Most of the people were golden skinned from the sun, with sun streaked blonde, brown or red hair. It was definitely the most beautiful district she had seen so far (apart from Seven, because she was biased) though the smell of fish permeated the air and made Johanna feel sick.

Marin’s platform looked very empty. There was a girl, who looked a lot like Marin, holding the hand of a baby, who was standing very unsteadily, gazing up at Johanna. Minnow. Johanna gulped. She thought Nine and Five had been hard – it was nothing compared to this. It was nothing compared to facing Marin’s family. Marin, who had so nearly made it home. Marin, who deserved to be standing on this stage far more than Johanna did.

0o0o

“Marin gave me her token. I wanted to get it back to you.”

“Oh, that was nice of you, wasn’t it,” Delmare said sarcastically, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, Minnow on her lap.

“I’m really sorry.”

“That’s good to know.”

Delmare looked perhaps a couple of years older than Rowan, in her early twenties maybe. Up close like this Johanna could see the differences between her and Marin – she had a different nose, slightly lighter hair, and her face was heart-shaped instead of oval. But the similarities were there, and Johanna found it difficult to look her in the eyes.

“Minnow looks so much like her,” she said softly.

Delmare’s expression softened as she looked at her niece. “She does.”

“Johanna,” Minnow said, pointing at her. Johanna gulped. Minnow smiled, and grabbed Johanna’s hand. “Up?”

“She wants you to hold her,” Delmare said, looking kinder suddenly. Maybe the judgement of the baby warmed her to Johanna a bit.

Johanna wasn’t sure what to say. “Oh.”

“Do you want to?”

“Okay.”

Delmare picked Minnow up, and handed her to Johanna. She wasn’t quite sure what to do – she had only been young when Bear born, and couldn’t remember how to hold babies. But Minnow was more of a toddler than a baby. Minnow giggled and pulled Johanna’s hair.

“She likes you,” said Delmare.

“She’s adorable.”

“I think Marin would have wanted it to be you,” Delmare said, surprising Johanna. “If not her, or Sol, or that little girl from Five.”

“Why?” Johanna asked.

“Because you’re a fighter. You’re going to change the world.”

Johanna nearly choked. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Delmare laughed, which Johanna hadn’t been expecting. “You’re so awkward.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I don’t know how to act in front of the girl whose sister I murdered,” Johanna said sarcastically.

“It wasn’t you who murdered her.”

“What do you mean?”

Delmare shrugged. “You were doing what you had to do to get home. You did what many have done before you. Someone has to lose, and of course I hate that it had to be Marin. But that’s the rules. You won fair and square, and it’s not fair to hate you for that.”

Johanna felt as though a small weight had lifted from her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Delmare said coolly, her eyes hardening again. _God, I’m bad at this,_ Johanna thought. Time to move it along.

“If you don’t like the frame,” she said, gesturing to the photo. “Maybe you should take it off.”

Delmare frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The photoframe. It’s kind of ugly.”

“It looks fine to me,” Delmare said, confused.

“Okay, sure, but I’m just saying – if you don’t like it, you can always take the photo out.”

“Okay…?”

“Do you understand?” Johanna asked. She _needed_ Delmare to understand.

Delmare’s expression suddenly changed. She grabbed the photo, and began to pry the back part of the frame off.

“No,” Johanna hissed, reaching out and peeling Delmare’s hand off the photo. The girl’s skin was dry, almost scaly. “Not here. Okay? Maybe do it at home.”

Delmare didn’t say anything. She gazed at Johanna, as though she was analysing every aspect of her. Johanna wanted to look away, but couldn’t quite bring herself to.

“Do you understand?” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Delmare said slowly, nodding. “I got it.”

Minnow began to whine, and reached out for her aunt. Johanna handed her over, relieved to hand back the squirming child. “Well. Goodbye,” she said.

“Wait,” said Delmare, and Johanna turned around. She was surprised when Delmare pulled her into a quick hug. “Thank you for giving her an honourable death,” she said, tears in her eyes. “And thank you for being there with her while she died.”

“It’s-“ Johanna began, but she didn’t know what to say. “Sorry.”

Delmare smiled. “Goodbye, Johanna Mason.”

She walked out of the room, Minnow in her arms, clutching the photo, leaving Johanna to wonder exactly what the fuck had just happened.

 _Careers are weird,_ she thought, looking at where Delmare had just been sitting.

0o0o

Finnick Odair was as beautiful in the flesh as he was on TV. Johanna remembered when he had won – she had been about eleven when he visited their district. The year before her first reaping. He hadn’t killed either of their tributes, so that endeared him a bit. He was also incredibly friendly, which surprised Johanna – she had been expecting him to hate her, having killed Marin. She remembered how Mags and Meredith had visited her in the hospital after she won, and wondered if all Careers thought that way – the Victor is the one who deserved it most. Maybe that was the case, but Johanna knew she was a shitty person so of course Marin should have won. _I’m here, and she’s not, and there’s nothing we can do about it now,_ she thought.

“Johanna Mason,” said Finnick, sauntering up to her. He was shirtless – of course he was, there were cameras around – and his bronze hair was perfectly windswept.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had that urge a lot. “Finnick Odair.”

“You know, I thought from the start that you had something up your sleeve.”

“You did, did you?”

“Yes. No-one gets a one in training. Even the twelve-year olds usually get at least a three. No, a one doesn’t happen unless you aim for it.”

“Look at you, big smart man, you figured me out,” she said sarcastically.

He shrugged. “I thought it was brilliant. I mean, I guessed what you were doing, but that’s because I’m a genius.”

She snickered. “And you’re incredibly humble, too.”

“Are you telling me that if you looked like this-“ He thrust out his pelvis, angling his hips in a _very_ provocative way. “-you wouldn’t flaunt it?”

Johanna grinned. She didn’t like dudes, but she had to admit that Finnick was one hell of a snack. “Are you saying I’m not hot? Sweetie, I’m ten times more attractive than you are.” She missed banter. She used to banter with Eurydice all the time, their conversations riddled with sarcasm and dark humour. She hadn’t expected Finnick Odair, of all people, to be someone she’d enjoy talking to, but stranger things happened.

He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging her. “Do the ladies swoon when you walk by?”

“They sure do.” Johanna smirked. Eurydice would tease her for weeks if she could hear this conversation. She was probably laughing her ass off in the afterlife. “The men, not so much, but I’m okay with that, the feeling’s mutual.”

“Nice,” he said, and gave her a high-five. “In all seriousness, well done. They love you in the Capitol. You could do anything you wanted.”

“Really?” She scoffed. What she really wanted to do was blow the whole place up, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to be honest. “Because what I want to do is throw myself off that nice cliff there.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Okay, maybe not everything,” he said, smirking. Let me know if you ever do get around to cliff-diving, I wouldn’t mind joining you.”

“Cliff-diving with no safety gear or training, you mean?”

“Of course.” Finnick grinned at her, before glancing at the cameras and letting out a slight sigh. “I had better go attend to my fan club. It was great to meet you, Johanna.”

“The pleasure was all mine, pretty boy.”

In all seriousness, it _was_ a nice cliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it twisted that I kinda ship Jo and Del?? Also, I love writing Finnick and Jo together. I don’t ship them (because Johanna’s hella gay, I mean come on it’s practically canon) but they’re my friendship OTP. Also! They’ve got to both be Slytherins! I feel like Finnick could be a Slytherin/Hufflepuff, tho. Johanna is 100% Slytherin and I am prepared to fight over this. I may or may not have sorted all the characters into Hogwarts houses. Marin’s a Ravenclaw.
> 
> Part 2 coming soon.


	41. Victory Tour Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna goes to Districts Three through One. After that, she goes to the Capitol, where she immediately fights with the first person she meets and has not one but two worrying conversations with two very different people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: A Leader Always Carries a Stick by Grizzly Bear

**DISTRICT THREE**

District Three was very similar to Five, with similarities to Six and Eight as well. Johanna hadn’t had anything to do with Three’s tributes, who had both died in the Bloodbath. The most common characteristics seemed to be pale, ashen skin, dark hair and narrow features. Almost everyone was on the short side.

Beetee, Wiress, Michael and Calcula were friendly, if a little twitchy. Johanna found them a bit annoying, but Magnolia seemed to be old friends with all four of them, so she tolerated them for her mentor’s sake.

The electronics _were_ cool, she had to admit. She wasn’t a nerd, but who didn’t want a tiny little box that played music? And a device that immediately dried hair? And another device that kept clothes smooth and crisp even if they’d been stuffed into the back of a closet?

Johanna wished that Eurydice was here to see them as well – she was such a nerd, she would have loved District Three.

**DISTRICT TWO**

District Two was by far the most diverse district Johanna had seen so far, and she wondered if it was due to the Peacekeepers – they came from the Capitol as well as District Two.

They regarded Johanna with respect, to her surprise. Enobaria explained to her later. “Honour is very important to us here. You showed honour by fighting bravely and by giving our fallen ally an honourable death.”

Johanna was reminded of what Delmare had said to her, though Two and Four didn’t seem very similar apart from both being Career districts. “Thank you,” she said, not sure what else to say.

Nero, Lex, Martina, Minerva, Brutus, Lyme, Magnus, Dido, Julius, and the appropriately named Victor were all present at the party, along with Enobaria. The four other Victors were either dead or way too old to go to parties.

She got along well with Enobaria and Nero the best, and stuck mostly with them. The other districts hadn’t had parties, only dinners, and she found herself enjoying it, losing herself in a haze of thumping music and alcohol, with people who understood her. Well, understood her better than the people back home, at least.

Later, as Magnolia led her back to the train, Johanna thought she understood Careers a bit better. They weren’t all evil, bloodthirsty killers. They simply used the resources of their district to their advantage, training their kids up so they would have a chance, encouraging stronger kids to volunteer so that few young or malnourished kids had to meet their deaths. Johanna realised that it wasn’t all too different to what Magnolia had done for Eurydice and herself – she had taught them how to survive. Given them a chance. That was why Johanna had won. Having realised this, she couldn’t bring herself to hate the Careers anymore. Sure, some of them were a bit evil, but who wasn’t, right?

**DISTRICT ONE**

Johanna didn’t like District One very much, though she did like the beautiful jewellery and silk clothes that the stores were brimming with. She also loved the fact that she could now afford luxury items, and filled a suitcase with beautiful clothes and jewels to take home. She got a shimmery silk shawl for her mother, a gold watch for her father, a bejewelled pin for Rowan, and a small silver dog figurine for Bear, with emerald eyes.

Most of the district were blonde haired and green or blue-eyed. They were also all gorgeous – well-fed and athletic. It wasn’t a surprise, though – District One was well-known for being not only the richest district, but also the Capitol’s favourite. That was why the Careers were treated like little pets, dressed up all pretty and then rewarded when they did what the Capitol wanted them to do.

Cashmere, Gloss, Lux, Vixen, Aphrodite, Glory, Onyx, Plutus, Shine, and Diamond were all present at the party. The other two Victors from One were dead. She didn’t like Cashmere very much, although the others seemed to be alright – they were surprisingly down-to-earth. She had expected them to all be up themselves as they appeared on TV. But, she supposed, most people weren’t as they appeared on TV. Johanna knew that better than anyone.

She hadn’t killed or been close to either of One’s tributes, and the people looked at her with either respect or indifference. She was, according to Gloss, ‘an honorary Career’, because of her years of experience with a weapon and the cunning way she had played to the audience. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this revelation.

**CAPITOL**

The Capitol was, predictably, the worst part of the tour. Mainly because Johanna was forced to stop ignoring the deal she had made with Snow – she couldn’t force herself to forget it anymore, because very soon she would have to live up to her side of the deal. Allow Snow to prostitute her out in exchange for keeping her family alive.

Nona dressed her in a long, emerald green gown, with a slit up the side which went all the way up her leg. She didn’t love it, and she certainly didn’t love the neckline – it left nothing to the imagination. Nona also gave her a headdress reminiscent to the one she’d worn at the parade – it was, thankfully, less like a pair of antlers. The second she was out of her stylist’s sight, Johanna dumped the headdress in the first trash can she could find. It reminded her of Elm – she hadn’t been close to him in the slightest, but it still hurt to remember him.

“Just smile and try not to punch anyone,” Magnolia told her. “They love to talk about themselves, so just get them talking and you will not have to do much thinking.”

“But I’m a Victor. Wouldn’t they want to ask me stuff?”

“You’d think so. But most of them are so self-obsessed that even in the presence of a celebrity – yes, you are a celebrity now – they would still rather talk about themselves.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining.”

“It’s the little things,” Magnolia said drily. “Please try not to embarrass me.”

“Me? Embarrass you? Of course not,” Johanna said innocently.

“Hmmpf.”

Magnolia abandoned her at the food table. Johanna took advantage of this and filled a plate with food, hoping that if she stuffed her face no-one would want to talk to her. She was, of course, wrong about this.

A teenage boy hesitantly approached her. He must have been no more than sixteen, with unnaturally bright red hair, and makeup slathered all over the acne he was obviously attempting to hide. “Johanna?”

“What?” Johanna said, through a mouthful of green cake. The cake had probably meant to be served later, as it had been placed on a tall platter and was untouched despite the many Capitolites mulling around the table. But it was her party, godammit, and if there was one thing she loved more than anything it was pissing off the Capitol. So she had grabbed the top tier of the cake and began tearing into it.

“I am such a huge fan!” squealed the boy. He looked as though he was about to start jumping up and down. “I remodelled my bedroom to look like the forest from your arena.”

“Congratulations,” Johanna said drily.

He seemed not to notice her tone. “Would you like to see a picture?” He didn’t give her the chance to reply, however, and took out a small thin rectangle from his pocket, made from what appeared to be clear glass. He pressed a circular button on the bottom of the rectangle, and a picture immediately filled the screen, of a bedroom with trees painted on the walls.

“What is that?” Johanna asked, fascinated by the device.

“You don’t know what a mural is? My parents hired the best painter in the Capitol to-“

“Not the painting, dumbass, that little rectangle thing you’re holding. What is it?”

“Oh. My. Snow. Wait til I tell my friends that THE Johanna Mason called me dumbass!” He seemed positively _thrilled_ by the idea of it. Seeing her glare, his smile faded. Perhaps he’d remembered the fact she was a murderer. “Oh. Um. Sorry. This,” he said, holding up the device, “is a mobile phone.”

Johanna frowned at the dorky-looking thing. How could that be a phone? It was so tiny. “That’s not a phone. Phones have cords.”

“You still have those kinds of phones?” He laughed, and Johanna wanted to punch him. “What is this, the thirties?”

“No. It’s the districts.”

He put his hand over his heart and simpered. “My Snow, I must tell someone that you poor district angels are stuck in the technological stone age.”

Johanna stayed silent, not trusting herself to not call him something far worse than dumbass. Poor district angels? She wanted to kick this kid down the stairs.

“Oh, how rude of me, I haven’t even introduced myself. I am Apollo Antonius Montgomery. My parents are both Gamemakers. My mother even designed the bear mutts in your arena!”

Johanna gritted her teeth, summoning her inner Enobaria Spiteri and baring her teeth. Apollo seemed to take it for a friendly grin, however. “Did she, now?”

He nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes, and she was just thrilled when you incorporated them into your talent! She actually cried!”

“Oh, well, that’s nice for her.”

“Can I take a selfie with you, pretty please?”

“A whattie?”

“A selfie! Oh my Snow, I keep forgetting you district-borns aren’t in with the Capitol lingo. A selfie is a photo! One you take of yourself!” He demonstrated, making a strange gesture – all his fingers folded down except for the index and middle, his palm facing outwards – and stuck out his tongue, clicking a photo and showing her.

She frowned. “You look like a freak,” she muttered.

Apollo seemed unperturbed by her rudeness. Or maybe he didn’t hear her. He lifted up the phone to face them. “Say cheese!” he shouted joyfully, dropping an arm around Johanna’s shoulders. The phone clicked just as Johanna roughly shoved his arm off her shoulders. Her plate clattered to the ground, the cake landing icing-down with an amusing squelch.

“What the hell?” she shouted, shoving the kid in the chest. He stumbled backwards, his cheeks going red as he regained his balance. “You can’t just touch me like that! I could have stabbed you! Don’t do that!”

Apollo’s lip trembled, and he backed away. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend – I only wanted a photo.”

“You can’t just grab people like that!” she said again, but with less venom. The kid didn’t mean it, he didn’t know what Victors were like. She would have almost felt bad if he weren’t from the Capitol.

Her yelling had begun to attract people to the scene. The flashes of cameras began to go off, the light blinding her. The familiar feeling of panic began to seep into her, and Johanna felt her vision begin to narrow as the people around her pressed in, trying to catch a glimpse of the drama. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe…

“You’re TOO CLOSE!” she screamed, and shoved through the crowd, pushing people away from her as she tried desperately to get away before she did something worse. A strong hand grabbed her upper arm, and Johanna gasped and began to struggle before looking up and seeing the familiar face of Finnick Odair. “Finnick?” she gasped. What was he doing here?

“Yeah. Come on, let’s go.”

Going with Finnick Odair sounded like a far better option than being crushed by a mob of Capitolites. She yanked her arm out of his grip, but allowed him to lead her away from the main party and into the garden, which was empty except for a couple who were very enthusiastically making out. “What are you doing here?”

“Some Victors are given certain… _allowances_ to come to the Capitol throughout the year.” Johanna guessed that by allowances, he meant he was here so he could be prostituted out. “Officially, I’m here on business.”

“And unofficially?” she asked.

He smiled. “I’m here to see you.”

“What do you want?”

“Don’t mind that now. Are you alright? What happened back there?”

“I’m fine,” Johanna said, scowling. She hated the way he was looking at her – like she was some pitiful _child_ who couldn’t control her urges. “Just some stupid kid. He grabbed me and I panicked. What’s gonna happen to me now? Have I fucked myself over?”

Finnick shrugged. “Once I punched someone in the face when they grabbed me from behind, so you are, comparatively, going to be fine.”

“I hate it here,” Johanna said, crossing her arms.

“How could you hate it here?” he said, in a falsely optimistic voice. “It’s wonderful. Look, they have sunflowers. It’s a pity about the insects though, they always get in my mouth.”

She took this to mean the garden was bugged, and knew not to say anything risky. “Maybe you should shut up for once and there won’t be a problem.”

“You make a good point.”

“Okay. Enough pleasantries,” she said. He smirked at her mockery of ‘Capitol lingo’ as Apollo would have no doubt put it. “Why did you want to see me?”

He gave her a coy grin. “Am I not allowed to want to get to know the beautiful new Victor more intimately?” Johanna punched him in the arm, but knew he was joking and laughed. “You pack a good punch,” he said, rubbing his bicep.

Johanna smirked. “How do you think I won?”

“Uh, by chopping people up?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He grabbed her, and lead her over to a loudly bubbling fountain, talking about how beautiful Calliope Snow’s evening gown was. “Unofficially, I’m here to warn you,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Are we safe here?” she asked, matching his tone.

“We should be alright. The water will interfere with the bugs.”

“What are you warning me about?”

Finnick sighed, and averted his eyes. “Snow knows about your gift to Marin’s family. He’s not pleased.”

“How does he know?”

Finnick laughed. “Johanna, you’re about as subtle as a brick thrown through a window.”

“Bitch, I am a ninja,” she joked weakly. “Are they okay? I thought I warned Delmare to be careful.”

“They’re fine. She took your advice and waited until she got home. But he knows something is up.”

“How?”

“He’s a very intelligent man, Johanna. Even the best actress in Panem can’t fool him.”

“So what now?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“You tread very, very lightly,” he replied seriously. “Try to avoid similar events to the Montgomery kid. Play nice, make a good impression as a Capitol-loving dweeb, etc, etc.”

She sighed. Playing nice was not her forte. “Be honest. Am I screwed?”

“We’ve all been in similar situations. We’ve all made mistakes like this. You aren’t the only one. And so, you’re not completely screwed yet. As long as you follow his rules from now on – try to avoid trouble.”

“But I’m Johanna Mason,” she said. Her whole image was built on trouble. “They’re expecting me to cause trouble.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But there’s trouble and there’s _trouble._ The second kind is what will get you screwed.”

“And what is the second kind?” Johanna asked.

“Blatant anti-Capitol statements or actions, mainly. This can include beating important people up.”

She frowned. “Why’d you say that last part?”

He shrugged. “You seem like the kind of person to beat important people up.”

“Yeah, important people like you if you don’t shut the fuck up,” she said, scowling.

Finnick grinned. “We should head back, we’ve been gone long enough. Act dazzled.”

“Dazzled? The fuck?”

“You just disappeared into a romantic garden with the one and only Finnick Odair!” Finnick exclaimed, clasping his hands under his chin and blinking innocently. “Act dazzled!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you just disappeared into a romantic garden with the one and only Johanna Mason, so maybe you should act like you’ve just been threatened with death.”

“But I haven’t been threatened with death.”

Johanna smirked. “And I haven’t been dazzled, so shut your beautiful mouth or I’ll rip your head off and shove it so far up your ass you’ll see the sun.”

They emerged from the garden laughing, and Johanna ignored the stares of the Capitolites and lead Finnick to the dance floor. He put his arms around her waist, and gave her a sexy look. “Are you dazzled now?”

“Shut the fuck up, Odair,” she laughed. She tried to push Finnick’s warning to the back of her mind – it wouldn’t do to burst into tears in front of these people. They didn’t deserve to see her cry, not anymore.

Despite what had happened with Apollo, Johanna found herself enjoying the party. At least while she was dancing with Finnick, anyway. For a moment, anyway – of course it wouldn’t last. Happiness never lasted in Panem. “May I cut in, Mr Odair?”

“But of course, President Snow,” Finnick said, smiling. He glanced at Johanna, patting her on the back in what would seem like a friendly gesture to anyone else – but she knew it was his way of comforting her. “Remember what I told you, Johanna, it wouldn’t do to tread on his feet!”

“I’m a terrible dancer, but I’ll try,” she said, smiling thinly. They weren’t, of course, talking about dancing. As soon as Snow’s back was turned, Finnick’s smile dropped, and he gave her a worried look.

President Snow kissed her hand gently, and they began to dance slowly to the music – which no doubt looked strange, as the song was quite fast. “You look beautiful this evening, Miss Mason,” Snow said, smiling. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks,” she said, forcing herself to smile back. “You don’t look too bad yourself, President.”

He chuckled lightly. “Despite what Mr Odair said, you are a delightful dancer. I imagine it comes from all those years of training?”

“Training?” Johanna said, willing herself not to show how nervous she was. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir, training is illegal.” Surely… surely he didn’t know about the training she and Eurydice had done, under Magnolia? How could he?

Snow tutted, and shook his head. “I despise being lied to, Miss Mason, and I imagine you do as well. Would you like to accompany me inside? I believe we have some things to discuss.”

“Of course, sir,” Johanna said, knowing he wasn’t giving her a choice. Snow put his arm around her waist, his grip soft but confining, letting her know that he was in control of the situation, not her. She wanted desperately to shove him away as she would have if it were anyone else. But she allowed him to lead her away. She caught Finnick’s eye, and grimaced at him. He smiled in what he obviously intended to be a reassuring way, but she saw the worry in his eyes.

He led her inside the mansion, which was, predictably, lavishly decorated. “What a beautiful home, sir.”

“Thank you, Miss Mason. Most of the furniture comes from your own district.”

“Ah, that’s why I like it, then,” she said, and tried not to cringe. _Just shut the fuck up, Johanna, you’re only making things worse for yourself._

He didn’t laugh at her lame joke – maybe pretending she was funny would count as a lie. He led her into an ornate sitting room. “Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing to a fancy sofa.

She sat, and he sat directly opposite her on a matching sofa. She crossed her legs, and then uncrossed them and set her feet flat on the ground. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands – what did she usually do with her hands? She settled for clasping them in her lap.

“Would you like some tea, Miss Mason?” Snow asked, gesturing to the coffee table which had a teapot and a tray of biscuits.

“Yes, please,” she said.

He poured amber liquid into an obscenely small teacup. “Sugar? Cream?”

“No, thank you,” she said, and he handed her the cup. He didn’t pour any for himself, which only made Johanna feel more awkward, but at least now she had something to do with her hands.

“I imagine you know why you’re here.”

Johanna pulled a face. “The Montgomery kid?”

Snow chuckled. “No. Apollo is a lovely boy – he’s a friend of my granddaughter, Calliope – but even I find him intolerable at the best of times. Your reaction to him was perfectly understandable. No, you’re here because of the stunt you pulled with the tokens.”

Johanna didn’t say anything.

He gave her another shark’s smile. “I am aware of what was concealed within the gifts. Just as you are aware of the law that prevents Victors from using their winnings on anyone but themselves and those related to them by blood or marriage.”

“I wasn’t aware of that law,” Johanna said, her mouth going dry. She had, of course, been aware of the law, but she had always been a good liar. He wouldn’t be able to see through her. Right?

His eyes glinted, telling her that she hadn’t gotten away with her lie. “It was discussed in the information pack sent from the Capitol.”

“Oh. To be honest, I didn’t really read that.” She chuckled awkwardly, and took a sip of tea, even though it was scalding hot.

“Perhaps you should have,” he replied coldly. “As it is your first slip-up, I will allow you – and the beneficial parties – to get away unpunished. However, you understand that I won’t be as generous next time. Especially given your connections.”

At least Maizy and Marin’s families would be alright. “My connections, sir?”

“I understand you were quite close with the rebel Eurydice Babineaux?”

Johanna’s blood ran cold. Why did he have to bring up Eurydice? “Yes, sir, I was,” she whispered.

“And you know that she was executed for treason?”

She frowned. “I thought the official word was that she was killed in action.”

“And so she was. It’s lucky for her that this was the case, otherwise she would have had a very long and painful death, just as her accomplice, Myrtle Li, did.”

Johanna noticed that he intentionally didn’t mention Cypress, but remained silent. She had another sip of tea.

“Your good deeds with the Hillary family in Nine and the Callahan family in Four could be counted as your second or even third broken law, were I to count your many years of illegal training with Magnolia Babineaux and your little visits to District Seven’s black market, as well as your ownership of illegal contraband. But I hope you will heed my warning – if you do, I’m sure your Victorship will be fruitful to the Capitol.”

“Thank you, sir,” Johanna said quietly, averting her eyes. How did he know about the training, about the Acorn, about the books? Why hadn’t he made more effort to stop her, if he knew about this? What was he waiting for?

“Which leads me to our next topic of discussion. We spoke briefly after your Victory about how a Victor must repay the Capitol, do you remember?”

How could she forget? “Yes. I remember.”

“You will be required to start during your time in the Capitol. You will be provided with when, where and who you are required to service.” He smiled at her, his teeth glistening. His breath smelled like blood, and the stench of it brought Johanna straight back to the arena. She felt sick to her stomach. “Do keep our little conversation in mind.”

He got to his feet, and offered his hand to Johanna, who took it. His skin was scaly, like a reptile’s, and she thought it was fitting. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your party any longer. I wish you a pleasant time in the Capitol, Miss Mason.”

“Thank you, sir,” Johanna managed to get out, before exiting the room. Once she was safely away from the sitting room, she stopped walking, and leaned against the wall. She was shaken from her conversation with Snow – his thinly-veiled threats had gotten to her.

If he knew about the tokens – what else did he know? And what would he come to find out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing Snow, because he’s such a specific and iconic character. I always feel like I don’t get him right. Ah well.


	42. Melon Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna attends to her clients, and everything goes to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: O Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

** STRONG TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE/NON-CON **

It didn’t matter that she didn’t like men. She had no choice, and Snow certainly wasn’t going to accommodate to her sexuality – it was only about who paid him the most for a chance to sleep with her. She had only ever been with Eurydice – she didn’t want to sleep with these stinky old men.

The first one wasn’t bad. He was surprisingly sympathetic, and gentle – Johanna still wanted to beat his skull in, but at least he didn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to. Apart from sleep with him, of course, but it was really Snow who was forcing her to do that. He gave her a pair of emerald earrings, which she gave to a delighted cab driver on her way back to the penthouse.

She went back to the penthouse, mascara streaked down her cheeks. Magnolia wiped her face gently, and ran a warm, lavender-scented bath for her. She didn’t say anything, and Johanna was glad. She didn’t want to talk about it. She felt dirty, and like she’d betrayed Eurydice somehow – even though she knew that was ridiculous, she couldn’t push the thought away.

The second one wasn’t as nice, but at least it was over quickly. She left his apartment with a diamond necklace – she didn’t know what to do with it, and threw it in the first bin she saw.

Magnolia cleaned her up again, and that night, after Johanna had scrubbed her skin raw, she braided Johanna’s hair like her mother always did. When Johanna closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was a very small child again, safe at her old house before any of this had ever happened. Before the Games. Before she became the woman she was today.

The third one – well, Johanna instinctively knew, from the moment she arrived at his apartment, that something bad was about to happen. There was dread in her stomach, but she couldn’t do anything about it – she couldn’t follow her gut instinct, which was to run far, far away from this man. He was the minister of defence, and his eyes were cold and cruel as they looked over her body. He took her quickly, roughly, ignoring her cries of pain.

When it was done, Johanna put her dress back on. He had ripped it in his haste to get her naked, and it hung loosely from her shoulder. She gathered the rest of her things – she didn’t have much, just a purse with some money and makeup – and made to leave.

He grabbed her wrist, and Johanna’s heart began to beat quickly in her chest. “I don’t think so, you little bitch,” he sneered. “I bought you for the whole night. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You bought me for two hours,” Johanna protested. Her heart was hammering so loudly that she wondered if he could hear it.

He tightened his grip on her wrist. “No, I don’t think so.”

Johanna tried to pull her wrist out of his grip. “You’re hurting me. Let go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I said, let go of me!” Johanna shrieked, and before she knew what she had done he was keeled over, groaning. Oops. Apparently her natural reaction to this man was to kick him in the biscuits.

“That was a mistake, little girl,” he said, through gritted teeth, looking up at her with murder in his eyes.

Johanna knew that look – how many times had she seen that look in the arena? – and she began to scream, before he wrapped his hands around her throat, effectively silencing her before someone could hear. She desperately wanted someone to hear – she would rather take her chances with one of the Careers than this cruel boy.

 _My hatchet,_ she thought, _where the fuck is my hatchet?_ She reached out, searching desperately, but it wasn’t there. She was defenceless, she realised. He was squeezing, tighter and tighter, and she couldn’t breathe. The bark of the tree was rough against her back, and Johanna began to panic even more. Where was his weapon? He had had a scythe not a moment ago… was he hiding it behind his back, waiting until she stopped struggling to deliver the killing blow?

She didn’t know. But she was beginning to see stars, and as she looked into the boy from Nine’s eyes, Johanna knew she had to get away. She was so close to getting home, to seeing her family again – she had to escape. She had to kill him. Her lungs were screaming for air, and never had Johanna known so clearly what she had to do.

She reached to the side, frantically trying to find something to kill him with – her fingers closed around a rock, about the size of an apple. It would have to do, and Johanna gasped for air. She had to do it now, or he would almost certainly strangle her to death.

She slammed the rock into the side of his head with as much force she could muster, and he released her grip, falling to the floor. “Fuck!” he said, putting a hand to the wound on his head. His fingers came away bloody, and he looked up at her, murder in his eyes. “That was a mistake, Miss Mason,” he spat, and Johanna felt saliva splatter onto her cheeks.

How did Nine know her name? Johanna didn’t know, but he was on the floor and weakened and she had to take advantage of that. She leapt at him, rock in hand, and pinned him down, remembering all that Magnolia had taught her about wrestling. He leered at her. “I like my women on top.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, and she brought the rock down hard on his head. He yelled in pain and tried to throw her off, but some animal instinct had taken over and Johanna held tight with the desperate fight for survival. Again and again and again she slammed the rock into his skull, and she realised she was screaming. She hit him again and again and again, until he had stopped moving and stopped breathing and stopped living. His head looked like a melon that had been dropped from the tallest building in the Capitol.

The boy from Nine was dead, and as Johanna looked down at his mangled corpse, she realised it wasn’t the body of a boy, and she wasn’t in a forest. _Where am I?_ She was in an apartment, and the man she had just killed was… who was he again?

Johanna dropped the rock, which she realised was actually a paperweight, and stood up. She put her hands to her head, breathing heavily – who was this man, and what had she done to him? What had he done to her, to make her want to kill him?

He was the minister of defence, she remembered. She was a Victor. She was a prostitute. Melon Man was one of her clients. He had bought her for two hours, though he had tried to keep her for longer – and then when she refused, he had tried to force her, his hands wrapped around her throat. His hands around her throat – Johanna realised that her cheeks were wet. It had felt so real. She had thought she was back in the arena, and she remembered how the boy from Nine had slammed her against a tree, his hand around her throat, a scythe raised above his head. She had thought… she had thought she was back in the arena. It had seemed so real, from the texture of the bark on her back to his sour breath on her face.

“Oh fuck,” Johanna breathed, beginning to pace. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

What had she done?

Ignoring all the proof she already had, Johanna dropped down and put her fingers to the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse. She didn’t find one, though she wasn’t surprised – but she had hoped that he was alive, that it would all be okay. That she hadn’t just fucked everything up. She knew Snow wouldn’t give her a second chance. A third chance.

The paperweight lay on the floor, dark red and sticky with blood, with chunks of skin and hair on it. As well as some mushy grey stuff that Johanna realised was chunks of his _brain._

She retched, and tried to hold it in, but didn’t manage and vomited on the floor.

 _What does this mean?_ She wondered, wiping her mouth. The prostitution she had agreed to was the only thing keeping her family alive. Technically, she’d still done the prostitution part, but she’d also accidentally murdered the guy, and she guessed that wasn’t part of the contract. Would Snow kill her family? Would he kill her, as well? Johanna didn’t know what to do.

She shakily made her way to the bathroom and washed her hands. There was little blood on her face from when she had put her hands to her head, and she scrubbed it away. There was also blood all down her dress, but she couldn’t do much about that. Thankfully the dress was black, and it was hard to tell unless you were looking closely at it.

Stumbling out of the apartment and through the hallway, Johanna somehow made it outside, where she hailed a cab, trying not to let anyone recognise her. This was difficult, as her face was on every billboard in the city, but she tried.

“Johanna? It’s Johanna Mason!” someone shouted, and then they were all there, clamouring for her autograph, for a selfie – not another goddamn selfie – and Johanna had just killed a guy and they were pressing in and she couldn’t breathe and oh, god –

A cab pulled up next to her, and Johanna pushed through the crowd of Capitolites and clambered into the back, slamming the door shut.

“Where you going?” the driver asked, not looking at her. He sounded bored.

There was blood under her fingernails. “Victors’ Centre,” she managed to get out. Her voice was raspy from all the screaming, and it hurt to talk.

He looked at her then – her voice must have been familiar. She didn’t know how, because she sounded like a frog. He took in her appearance – the bruises on her neck, the blood on her hands that she hadn’t quite managed to scrub away. The torn black dress, barely more than lingerie. “Are you Johanna Mason?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Huh,” said the cab driver, glancing at her in the mirror again and falling silent. Johanna was glad he didn’t insist on talking to her. She didn’t know if she’d be able to hold a conversation.

The drive was, thankfully, short. Johanna shoved a handful of cash at him, waving him away when he tried to give her back the change.

She didn’t know how she managed to get back to the penthouse, but somehow she did.

“Magnolia!” she rasped, stumbling through the door. She slammed it closed and locked it. She didn’t bother to hide the fact she’d been crying – what was the point? She’d probably be dead in a matter of hours.

“Johanna?” Magnolia asked, rushing into the front room. “Oh my dryads, what the hell has happened to you?”

“I killed him,” she said thickly, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Magnolia, I killed him.”

“What?”

“I killed him! I fucking beat his head in with a paperweight!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to, I thought – I thought he was the boy from Nine – I was back _there –_ ” she trailed off, wiping away another tear.

Magnolia was looking at her with the most serious expression Johanna had ever seen, on any person. Ever. “Please let this be a joke. Please tell me you did not kill the minister of defence, one of the wealthiest men in the Capitol – who happens to be close friends with the president himself. Please.”

Johanna slumped into a chair and buried her head in her hands.

That was apparently the only answer Magnolia needed. She put her hands up to her forehead, and her face drained of what little colour it had left. “Oh, my god.”

“What do we do?” Johanna asked.

“We cannot do anything,” Magnolia said sadly. “There is nothing we can do to fix this. We can only wait. Now, get up.”

“What?”

“I said, GET UP!” Magnolia shouted. Johanna got up. “We don’t have much time, Johanna. Do you understand me?” Johanna could only stare blankly at her mentor, too in shock to say anything. “I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” Magnolia grabbed Johanna by the shoulders and shook her.

She nodded dumbly. “Yes,” she whispered, frightened. She had only seen Magnolia act like this a couple of times, when she was in one of her drunken rages. For her to act this way sober – it wasn’t a good sign. “Yes, I understand.”

“You have to listen to me!” Magnolia yelled, and shook Johanna so hard she could feel her bones rattling. “Stop crying, and listen. You have broken Snow’s contract, and you realise what that means, yes?”

Johanna’s blood went cold in her veins. She could feel it running like ice through her body. “He’s gonna kill my family.” She thought of her parents, always there for her… of Rowan, always so kind to everyone… and of little Bear, so innocent, so beautiful. Now they would all die, because of her. All her fault.

“Not just your family,” Magnolia said, shaking her head. “Me, Sylvia, probably any friends you have – I am truly sorry, but we’re all going to be dead in a matter of hours.”

“I-“ She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to apologise, but all the apologies in the world weren’t enough to fix what she’d done – she’d sentenced god knows how many innocent people to death. “How do you know?”

Magnolia hushed her. “It is how these things always go. Me, Haymitch, Enobaria. But there is no time for talking. I need you to know that this is not your fault. I need you to talk to Blight when you get home. He will tell you everything that I cannot.”

Someone was banging at the door, and Magnolia was looking increasingly anxious. Johanna was dimly aware she was shaking. “What do you mean?”

Magnolia leaned close and whispered in Johanna’s ear. “Rebellion is brewing. I wanted to tell you before, but it was not the right time. I need you now to join the ranks and help us change this terrible, terrible world.”

“Magnolia, what do you mean!” Johanna cried. The pounding at the door was getting louder – she didn’t think the door would hold.

“Our society will soon crumble!” Magnolia shouted. She grabbed Johanna and pulled her into a tight hug, letting go before Johanna had time to hug her back. “Do not blame yourself. Your family loves you very much,” Magnolia whispered, and pressed a kiss to Johanna’s forehead.

There was a crash as the door was broken in, and three Peacekeepers stormed into the apartment. “This is not your fault, Johanna!” Magnolia shouted. “This is the fault of that reptile who calls himself president, this is the fault of the twisted nation we live in! You are not the evil one! You are not the enemy!”

“Magnolia!” Johanna screamed, leaping after her mentor. They beat Magnolia with the butts of their rifles, and she was screaming and Johanna was screaming and the Peacekeepers were shouting and everything was chaos. Johanna launched herself, kicking and clawing, into the mess and tried to pry her mentor out of their grip, it wouldn’t work of course it wouldn’t but she had to _try,_ she had to fucking _try_ to make this better, to fix what she’d done _–_

Something collided with the side of Johanna’s head, and her world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was the toughest chapter of Crocodile Tears I’ve ever written. I’m so sorry. Also, please listen to the song – it’s about the loss of innocence, and I thought it connected a lot to the Hunger Games, and to Johanna. And especially to this chapter.


	43. Magnolia: Soul Slides Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnolia reflects on her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Don’t Look Back in Anger by Oasis (this is Magnolia’s song, I swear it’s just her. Idk. Have a good day and enjoy the chapter or whatever)

They dragged Magnolia out of the penthouse, kicking and screaming. She fought tooth and nail and even though she knew nothing would come from it she refused to let them take her without a fight. They stuffed her into the back of a car, with a calico bag on her head and a gag in her mouth, hands tied tightly behind her back, and she could barely breathe but it didn’t matter.

She was dumped into a cell, bag still on her head. Her hands were tied, but over the course of several hours she managed to work on the rope binding her. She hadn’t won the Games for no reason. After getting the rope off, she took the bag off her head and finally, _finally,_ she could breathe again.

She knew she was dead, and maybe she should have felt more upset about that. But it was a long time coming. They’d been watching her for years, they had. She’d maybe too many mistakes. But as long as she was valuable to the Capitol as a mentor and a prostitute, she knew they wouldn’t kill her. She knew now that she was worthless to them. Johanna would take her place, younger and healthier and not yet worn down by the world. She didn’t mind that part. But she knew that her death would mean Sylvia’s death as well. In fact, Sylvia was probably already dead.

She didn’t cry. It felt wrong to her that she would be the last one of her family dead. Her daughter and her granddaughter should have outlived her, but here she was, still alive, while the two most precious people in the world were either dead or about to be.

Magnolia wondered what would happen to Johanna’s family. They would certainly be killed – or would Snow kill them one by one as warnings? She thought it likely that he would kill them all at once. That was what they had done to her, to Haymitch, to Enobaria – why not Johanna? Magnolia had come home to find her family dead. An aunt, two cousins, four siblings and her parents, all of them waiting for her with bullets in their heads. She hadn’t known, then, what the consequences of her refusal would be, and hadn’t had a mentor to tell her, what would happen if she refused to become a prostitute. She wondered if it would have made a difference – he turned her into one anyway, threatening that, if she didn’t, District Seven would never have another Victor. And when she became pregnant from one of her clients, she had no choice but to do what was asked. Otherwise he would send Sylvia into the Games. What a lot of good that did her.

“It is all my fault,” she said to the grey wall. She wondered if Sylvia would have had a proper chance at life, had she been born to a different mother. If Eurydice would have lived past seventeen. It was, after all, all Magnolia’s fault that they were dead. She wished, not for the first time, that she had died in the arena – it would have saved her from a lifetime of pain.

It was too late to change things now, but she hoped Johanna would do what she had been too afraid to do.

Fight.


	44. Liberation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna has another little chat with our bro Sno, gives herself a haircut, and flips off the entire nation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: You Don’t Own Me by Lesley Gore

**Capitol, District Seven Penthouse**

Johanna came to hours after Magnolia had been taken. She immediately tried to get out of the Penthouse, but discovered she had been locked in, all by herself. Arabella and Nona were nowhere in sight, and there weren’t even any Avoxes. She was completely alone.

0o0o

After a long, sleepless night, the door opened. She was led downstairs by two Peacekeepers, who stuffed her into the back of a car. She didn’t bother fighting them – she knew it would only make things worse for herself, and Magnolia. If she was still alive. Johanna didn’t want to believe that she could be dead. It just wasn’t possible, how could _Magnolia_ , of all people, be dead?

After about ten minutes, Johanna saw the heavily fortified presidential mansion, where she had been only a couple of days ago for the Victor’s Banquet. She was led upstairs by the same two Peacekeepers, who shoved her through the doors of Snow’s office, before closing the door behind her.

She crept forward, slowly, carefully. Her legs felt useless, like they weren’t really supporting her. Like they might collapse at any moment, taking her to the ground where she belonged.

Snow gave her a joyless smile. “Miss Mason, glad you could make it.”

 _It’s not like I had a choice,_ she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to risk it. Maybe her family weren’t gone yet – maybe Magnolia was her warning, and maybe they’d be alright. She knew she had to try to do what she could now to save them. The only thing was, she didn’t know if there was anyone left to save.

So she crossed her arms and glared at him, before sitting down. She knew her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying, and perhaps she looked like the snivelling girl she’d been before the arena. But she didn’t think so. Because underneath the grief there was a rage that hadn’t been there before.

Snow smiled at her, a smile utterly devoid of any joy. Surely Snow wasn’t capable of joy – maybe he only felt happy after devouring his enemies. “Miss Mason, I-“

“It was an accident,” she blurted out, and then punched herself on the thigh under the desk, where he couldn’t see. _Idiot, idiot, idiot!_ “I- I thought I was back there. In the arena. Just an accident.”

“Yes, an accident, indeed,” Snow said. He regarded her coldly, his eyes glinting. “And I imagine the fact that Dionysus happened to oversee all military and Peacekeeper productions didn’t occur to you. Just as stirring up rebellion in one of the most difficult districts didn’t occur to Cypress Li and his sister, and Eurydice Babineaux, who we discussed only a few days ago, if I’m remembering correctly.”

So that was who Melon Man was. Why couldn’t he have been some random rich dude? Why did he have to be important? _God fucking dammit._ “I didn’t know,” Johanna said, her mouth dry all of a sudden. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I didn’t know who he was. And Eurydice didn’t know what she was doing, she didn’t – Cypress made her, I’m sure of it, Eurydice would never be that stupid.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. However, if Miss Babineaux was anything like your dear mentor, she certainly wouldn’t have done anything she didn’t want to. But let’s pretend, for the sake of the argument, that she was unwilling. Perhaps she was forced to participate – and perhaps you weren’t involved. But I find it strange that these events would happen so close together, and that they would be connected so closely. I do not believe for a second that these circumstances are coincidental, and you really should have thought about that before executing Dionysus Goodman.”

“Executing? It was an accident!” Johanna protested, her temper flaring up. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and managed to keep a somewhat even tone. “It’s not connected to what happened in my district. It’s not, I swear to the dryads.”

“Regardless, this cannot go unpunished. You know that, yes?”

She didn’t reply, and glared back at him with as much ferocity she could muster – which was a lot.

Snow was unperturbed. “You were on thin ice from the moment Eurydice Babineaux and her accomplices attempted to stir up rebellion in District Seven. I do not believe for a second that you weren’t involved in that, Miss Mason.”

He pressed a button, and a video hologram appeared, showing a blank grey wall with some very ugly dark stains on it. And then Magnolia walked into frame. Johanna’s stomach lurched at the sight of her mentor. What were they going to do to her? Was it a livestream, or had it already happened?

“The Capitol will burn,” Magnolia spat. Her face was a mess of blood and bruises, and she was missing one of her front teeth. Johanna wanted to kill whoever had done this to her, and realised the man responsible was sitting across from her. “Snow will pay for his crimes.”

There was a pause – which seemed to go on for an eternity – and then a jolting noise that made Johanna jump. And then her mentor, her teacher, her pseudo grandmother, slumped to the ground, a small hole in her forehead, the wall behind her splattered with blood and brain and hair and skull.

Johanna let out a choked noise and dug her nails even further into her thighs, trying not to scream. Snow gave her a cold, joyless smile. “That was an extension of Miss Eurydice Babineaux’s punishment.”

 _So what’s my punishment?_ She wondered, digging her nails in even harder. Her thighs were bleeding, and her fingertips were sticky with blood. Magnolia was dead, dead, dead. Magnolia was dead.

“I’m sure you understand what your punishment is,” he said. The video changed – it was her house in the Victors’ Village. The screen was divided into several squares, each square a different room. There was Bear, playing in his bedroom – Cubby in her basket in the kitchen – there were her parents, in the living room – there was Rowan in her room, obviously preparing to go out, doing her makeup.

“No,” Johanna whispered, her stomach lurching. “No, please, god, no.”

Snow leaned back in his chair, and regarded her as though she was a little ant he was about to fry with a magnifying glass. “Have you ever heard of carbon monoxide poisoning, Miss Mason?”

She didn’t reply.

“Carbon monoxide is an odourless, tasteless gas. If one ingests too much of it, it can cause hallucinations and, occasionally, death. This happens when there’s a gas leak, or when there isn’t proper ventilation, or when people instigate rebellion. And as we speak, your house is filling with carbon monoxide. Very soon your family will begin feeling sleepy – and not long after that, they’ll fall asleep. They will not wake up, but I’m certain you already knew that.”

The video disappeared. “Good afternoon, Miss Mason.”

It was obviously a dismissal, but Johanna stayed stubbornly in her chair, her arms crossed. She didn’t move. To her surprise, and Snow’s, she started to laugh. “You stupid son of a bitch, were your parents first cousins or something?” she said, and there were tears pouring down her cheeks and she didn’t know whether or not they were from laughing so much or from grief. “You dumb fucking slut.”

Snow just stared at her, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. His usually composed face was unable to hide his shock. Evidently, he wasn’t used to being called a slut. 

“Do it. Kill them. Just like you killed Eurydice, and Magnolia, and all those innocent kids. Kill them, fucking do it,” she taunted. She was sobbing now. “You don’t have anything to hold against me now, you understand? I don’t have to play your game anymore, I don’t have to fuck your crusty little Capitol buddies, I don’t have to obey you. I don’t care if I die. In fact, go ahead, kill me, I’d love to die. Bring it on.” She laughed again, fully aware that she sounded like a lunatic – and maybe she was a lunatic. She didn’t know who she was anymore. “There’s no one left you can use against me.”

She stood up, tears and snot running down her face, blood running down her legs where she’d cut them with her nails. She let out a sound that was like a combination of a laugh and a howl, and slammed her hands onto his desk. She spat a glob of saliva at him, and it hit him square in the face. “You don’t fucking own me anymore, Snow.”

0o0o

Despite what had happened the day before, Johanna still had to attend the post-tour interview with Caesar. Nona had dressed her in a sleeveless blood-red gown, with a neckline so low it touched the bottom of her ribs. There was a slit up the side, and she was wearing four-inch-high heels. It was one of Nona’s least terrible designs, Johanna had to admit, though she was worried her boobs might escape. Her hair was piled on top of her head.

Hair. Johanna was so sick of it. All it did was become matted with blood and dirt and tears and snot – it didn’t even look that good, especially not when Nona had put countless different Capitol products in it.

So before she was due to go onstage for the interview, Johanna made a decision. Nona and the rest of her prep team had left to find a very specific shade of eyeshadow, and Charissa was the only one still here, adding the finishing touches to Johanna’s makeup. “Do you have any scissors I could borrow, or a knife?” she asked Charissa sweetly. “There’s a loose thread on my dress.”

“Yes, of course,” Charissa said, and picked up a pair of silver scissors. “Allow me.”

“No, no,” Johanna said, waving her away. “I’ll do it.” She smiled again, and Charissa relaxed, handing her the scissors.

She didn’t waste any time. Yanking her hair out of the up-do, Johanna flipped it over her face, grabbed a chunk of it, and cut it off. Long dark strands floated to the floor, and Johanna felt free.

Charissa screamed, and put her hands over her mouth. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like, brainless?” Johanna said, and cut some more off. “I’m cutting my hair.”

“But why now?” Charissa all but wailed. “You’re meant to be onstage in fifteen minutes! How am I meant to fix this? Oh, Madam Glib’s going to kill me.”

Her hair fell to the ground, long and thick and dark. It had belonged to a girl who was now dead, a girl who had died in the arena with Elm and Maizy and Cassian and Scythe and Marin and all the other tributes. A girl who Johanna wasn’t anymore. She straightened up, and grinned at herself in the mirror. It was spiky, and ugly, and uneven, and she loved it. She had nothing and no-one left to lose now, so why should she act like she did? Why should she sit around being pretty and dainty and a perfect Victor after Snow had murdered everyone she loved?

“What. Have. You. Done?!” Nona shrieked.

“I really thought it was obvious,” Johanna said, brushing a clump of hair off her shoulder. “What’s wrong with you Capitol people?”

Nona sunk into a chair. Charissa began to fan her with a piece of paper. “Fifteen minutes until the interview!”

“Yep.”

“At least let me tidy it up.”

“No,” Johanna said, smirking at her stylist’s overreaction. Cutting her hair had been worth it, if only for Nona’s reaction. “You don’t get to touch me. Besides, I’m going to be late.”

“I cannot believe you insult me like this,” Nona snarled. “My beautiful work, ruined!”

Johanna rolled her eyes. “Go sit on a knife, Nona, it’s my hair.”

“You are by far the worst tribute I have ever had to dress.”

Johanna laughed. “I’m not a tribute, Nona. I’m a Victor.”

0o0o

“Johanna Mason!” Caesar exclaimed, grabbing her hand and kissing it. Johanna yanked her hand away, but he seemed not to notice. “My, my, what an interesting haircut!”

Johanna ran a hand over her newly spiky hair. It was uneven and awful-looking, and she loved it. “Thanks. Did it myself, ten minutes ago actually. My stylist’s pretty pissed off.”

Caesar raised his eyebrows at the profanity, and quickly tried to steer the conversation away from the topic. “I imagine she would be. You seem to be very creative, Johanna – between your new hairdo and your beautiful wood carvings. I must ask what your inspiration is?”

Johanna shrugged. “There’s no point in doing what you people want anymore. No more shitty hairdos and no more pretending. What’s the point? Now that there’s no one left whose opinion matters to me.” There were nervous little titters from the audience, as if they weren’t sure if she was joking or not.

Caesar seemed to remember something. “Oh, yes, my condolences, Johanna,” he said, and informed the audience that sadly, Johanna’s family died due to a gas leak in their home the day before. And a day before that, her mentor and the Capitol’s beloved Victor Magnolia Babineaux died in a car accident right here in the Capitol. He didn’t mention Sylvia.

“Fuck off with your condolences, pencil-dick,” she said, leaning back in her chair and mimicking the way Caesar sat, one leg crossed over the other. She heard someone guffaw, and looked up to see Buck from Ten laughing openly. Next to him, Finnick was desperately trying to control his laughter. “I don’t want them.”

She heard several shocked gasps from the audience, and smiled some more. “Caesar, it has been just _delightful_ catching up,” she said sarcastically, mimicking the Capitol accent, “but I’m afraid that I really must dash, I have several things to attend to, the main one being getting as far away from this ugly-ass place as I possibly can.” She got to her feet and gave an exaggerated bow, before striding off the stage before they could see that she was crying again.

She wasn’t just crying out of grief. She was also crying out of guilt, because a part of her – some deep, dark, buried part she didn’t want to think about – felt _liberated_ that they were dead. Because if they were dead, she didn’t have to worry about them anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry, Johanna. I really enjoyed having her call President Snow a slut, though.


	45. Teddy Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna arrives home to a house full of corpses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Exit Music (For a Film) by Radiohead

She didn’t know exactly how she would find them – dead, of course, but in what condition? And she knew it would have to be her to find them. They were her family; it would be wrong for anyone else to find their bodies. Like intruding on their privacy, she thought.

Blight knew it as well. “I can come in with you, if you want.”

But Johanna knew that it was something she had to do by herself. Words failed her, and she shook her head – thankfully, Blight seemed to understand, and so Johanna went into her house alone.

Her hands shook as she opened the door. She wanted to close her eyes but what was the point of that?

She found Rowan first, in the hallway, curled up next to the shoes, one of her boots half-pulled onto her foot. There were her parents, slumped together on the sofa, looking as though they could be asleep if it weren’t for the fact they were unnaturally pale, their chests still and unbreathing. Cubby in her basket in the kitchen, her furry little body stiff and cold. Bear was upstairs in his room, lying on the floor next to his dollhouse, a teddy clutched tightly in his small hands. They had been dead for probably no more than a day – it must have happened straight after they took Magnolia.

Johanna sunk to her knees and screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

0o0o

“Will I ever be alright again?” she asked Magnolia, forgetting, for a moment, that Magnolia was dead.

Magnolia took Johanna’s face in her hands and kissed her on the forehead. “You know that I am not here.”

“I know,” Johanna admitted. “But I need you to answer me. Will I ever be okay?”

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	46. Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna realises what it's like to be alone in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Crazy by Inara George

** TW: Self-harm and suicidal ideation **

Sylvia was dead too. Blight found her, cold and dead and lying on the floor in Eurydice’s room, all alone. Holding Eurydice’s blankets to her face as if she had been smelling them.

0o0o

Had they known they were going to die? Johanna wondered. Had it hurt? Where had they gone?

0o0o

Johanna was numb. First she couldn’t move her toes, then her feet, then her legs. Slowly the numbness spread up her body, and then she couldn’t move at all.

0o0o

Her family was buried a week after she got back to her district, next to Eurydice and Magnolia and Sylvia, who had been buried together. Blight organised the funeral; she was grateful.

0o0o

District Seven didn’t feel like her home anymore. She realised, that without her loved ones, it was just a place in the world where she happened to live.

0o0o

She had believed in the afterlife for as long as she could remember, but she didn’t believe in it now. They were just dead, their bodies rotting six feet under the earth and their consciousness gone. That was what dead was, anyway – she didn’t think they went anywhere.

0o0o

She realised, later, that refusing to work with Snow ever again meant that she would never be allowed to get close to anyone again, otherwise they would be doomed to the same fate as her family. No friends. No pets. No close connections at all.

Johanna realised that she was going to be alone forever.

0o0o

What was there left for her to do now?

0o0o

Johanna wanted to die. She thought about killing herself obsessively, every hour of every day. She wondered what it would be like to die, and held a kitchen knife to her throat, pressing it to her skin so hard that a shallow cut opened up and a bead of blood began to trickle down her neck. The pain was good, and Johanna pressed harder.

0o0o

She didn’t do it. It wouldn’t be fair. Twenty-three people had died so she could survive – it would be an insult to them and their families, to kill herself. It would mean their lives had been wasted.

0o0o

She should have let Marin win. Johanna wanted to be dead, and Marin had wanted so desperately to survive, to go home to sweet little baby Minnow.

She should have let Marin kill her.

0o0o

She wanted so badly to kill herself, but she settled for carving deep, red lines into her skin instead. Sometimes the physical pain was the only thing that distracted her from the other pain – the pain in her head was a million times worse. Sometimes, when she cut herself, it didn’t hurt at all and she couldn’t do anything to dull the pain in her head. Alcohol helped. Sometimes.

0o0o

She spent a week searching for the cameras. She found the one in Rowan’s room – it was a tiny thing, smaller than Johanna’s littlest fingernail, hidden in the ceiling light. She tore the house apart, but the rest of the cameras were nowhere to be found. She destroyed a few of the bugs as well, but most of them, like the cameras, were hidden too well. She didn’t mind. She spent the rest of the week screaming insults towards the Capitol, daring them to kill her. They’d only be sparing her from doing it herself. 

0o0o

After a week of screaming her throat raw, the Capitol still hadn’t come to execute her, so she stopped yelling.

0o0o

She wouldn’t have found the letter if she hadn’t gone on one of her rampages. It was the first time her blinding anger had done anything good, and so Johanna resolved to hold onto it always. It had fallen out of one of Eurydice’s books when she kicked her bed-side table over. It had fluttered to the ground like a butterfly and Johanna stopped, still and silent, in her tracks. Tears dripped onto the paper as she read Eurydice’s last words to her.

_Jojo,_

_I’m writing this in case I don’t make it home after tonight. I think I will – Cypress has been planning this obsessively for half a year – but just in case._

_I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was up to, I know I made you worried before you left and I’m so sorry about that, the last thing you need to be worrying about in the arena is little old me. But I couldn’t not do this. It’s a shitty excuse, I know. The truth is, Jo, I’m part of the rebellion. There’s a few of us in every district – I don’t know how many, or who they are, because we’re not told a lot. It’s too dangerous for us to know too much. Noni is part of it too, and Blight, and Cypress, obviously – that’s why I joined. I want to fight for a world where we can be safe one day. Just you and me forever, without having to worry about the Games ever again. It’s too late to save you from them now, but when you come home – and you will come home, don’t fucking say you won’t – I’ll tell you everything and we can end this._

_That’s why I didn’t volunteer. I’m leaving in about fifteen minutes, with Cypress and Myrtle. We’re trying to incite rebellion in the lumberjacks, who are the most likely in the district to turn against the Capitol. They have easy access to weapons, and if enough of them agree, we might be able to overpower the Peacekeepers. From there – well, I don’t know. I haven’t been given a lot of information yet. But things are happening, Jojo, and I’m excited. I want to help change this world and if that costs me my life, so be it. It’s worth it._

_I love you Johanna. More than anyone else in the world. You’re my soulmate, and I hope that I can help make a better world for you to live in._

_When you get home (alive, goddammit!!!) and if you find this and if I’m dead, tell Noni and Mama that I love them but I’m not sorry. If I die, it’s for a good cause._

_Love always and forever,_

_Eurydice xx_

Johanna read it again and again and again until her tears blurred the words so much she couldn’t read it anymore.

0o0o

After a month, she ventured outside, and sat on the porch, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Blight tried to keep her company, but gave up when she threw the glass bottle at his head. He swore and dodged and walked away, and the bottle shattered on the ground. She regretted it, because now she didn’t have whiskey.

0o0o

After two months, she went for a walk.

0o0o

After three months, she went to have lunch with Blight and his wife, Alyssa. She had shot down their offers countless times, but she was sick of the quiet the shrouded her house, the house where they had died. It was so quiet that it was loud, and it hurt her ears. She couldn’t bear it.

“What’s up, bitches,” she croaked, standing at the kitchen door and peering inside. The only time she’d used her voice for months was to scream. It hurt, now, to talk – it felt like she’d drunk a bleach and glass smoothie.

“Johanna!” Blight said, shocked. He jumped from his seat and crossed the room, opening the door. He reached out, as if he were going to put his hand on Johanna’s shoulder, but thought better of it and let it fall his side. “Um – how are you?”

Johanna scoffed. “Guess.” She stepped inside, striding past Blight and going over to the pantry. “Got any booze? I’m all out.”

Blight frowned, and shook his head. “We don’t drink. Anyway, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Johanna. Why don’t you have some orange juice instead, Lys made it yesterd-“

“You don’t know what’s good for me!” Johanna shouted, quick to anger. She loved the way anger felt – it reminded her of what it had been like before she went numb. She held onto her anger like it was a life raft. “You’re not my dad!” It hurt to think of her Da, and so Johanna yanked on her short hair so she’d think of the pain instead.

“I’m not trying to be,” Blight replied quietly. He didn’t remark on the hair pulling. Maybe he’d done it himself, after he won. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be,” she said, and sat on a chair, hugging her knees to her chest. “Mind your own business.”

“Oh, Johanna, how nice to see you!” said Alyssa, entering the kitchen. She looked surprised, and shared a worried look with Blight – she had obviously heard the yelling. Johanna realised that she hadn’t bathed for about two weeks, and that was probably why Alyssa was crinkling her nose. “We were just about to have lunch, would you like to join us?”

Johanna shrugged, but stayed seated. She would never admit it to them, but she really did want to stay. Their kitchen smelled like cinnamon and potatoes and pine, and it was an odd scent but it smelt oddly like her old house, before the Games. “What are you having?”

Alyssa and Blight glanced at each other again. “Oh, well, we were going to sauté some vegetables and fry up some bacon,” said Alyssa.

“Whatever, I’ll stay,” Johanna said. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

“Oh! Well, great!” Alyssa said. She looked genuinely happy about it.

“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like,” Blight added, giving her a warm smile.

Johanna just shrugged.

The meal was good, the first real food she’d had in… she couldn’t remember. Since she was last in the Capitol. She had been living off packaged food and alcohol, and whatever Blight left on her doorstep. The food was simple, but tasty, and it reminded her of what her parents used to cook.

It was awkward at the table, and they didn’t speak. Blight and Alyssa nervously discussed menial topics such as the weather and the new work quotas for lumberjacks, glancing at Johanna now and again as she shovelled food into her mouth. They evidently didn’t know how to talk around – or to – her, and she felt a little bit bad for intruding on them.

She liked being there, though. It was nice having people in the background for a change.

She wondered if they knew how lucky they were to have each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s only a few more chapters left in this :0 it’s a really weird thought, because I’ve been working on this story for so long. I honestly dk what I’m going to do after I finish it, I guess I’ll go back to crying in empty bathtubs and haunting the halls of abandoned insane asylums
> 
> i am. tired


	47. Rebel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johanna joins the rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Coffee and TV by Blur (watch the music video! It’s hilarious)

“Johanna,” said Blight softly. “I think it’s time we talked.”

“About what?” Johanna asked, crossing her arms.

“I think you already know.” Johanna thought of what Magnolia had said to her before she had been taken – _‘I need you to talk to Blight when you get home’_. She shuddered. She hated that memory. “Would you like to join me for a walk?”

Johanna took that to mean that whatever they were discussing couldn’t be discussed in her house. “Okay then. Let’s get this over with.”

They walked out of the Victor’s Village, through the town and into the forest. Blight took her to a huge, ancient ash tree – one of the largest in the district, which would take too much manpower to cut down. It had been there since before the dark days, apparently. Johanna had fond memories of that tree. She and Eurydice used to meet up there all the time.

“It’s safe to talk here,” Blight said, glancing around to make sure no-one had followed them. He sat on a large root sticking out of the ground, and gestured for Johanna to join him. She did. “Were you aware of the underground group working towards the rebellion?”

 _Wow, jumping right in,_ she thought. “No. I wasn’t aware.”

“I’m part of it. So was Magnolia, and Sylvia. And Eurydice. Alyssa’s part of it too, as well as at least half of the Victors.”

“Finnick and Mags?” she asked. “Meredith?”

“Yes,” Blight said, nodding. “In fact, most of the Fours are.”

“I knew it,” Johanna said gleefully. “I knew Pretty Boy had secrets up his sleeve.”

Blight smiled at that, for some reason – he obviously knew something she didn’t. “It’s not just us Victors, though. There are also Capitols-“

She couldn’t believe it. How could some of the Capitol’s own – people who had oppressed them every day of their lives – be working to _help_ them? Johanna didn’t believe it. She’d never met a Capitolite she didn’t hate. “Capitols?” she exclaimed. “We can’t trust those dirty Capitolites!”

“We can trust some of them,” Blight said, raising a hand to signal for her to keep her voice down.

She ignored him, and continued to shout. She was sick of people keeping things from her. She wanted answers. “Oh yeah? Like who?”

“Effie Trinket. Plutarch Heavensbee. Arabella Boomhaven,” Blight said, listing the names calmly and in extreme contrast to Johanna’s outrage.

Johanna’s jaw dropped. “Arabella? No fucking way.” Surely the prissy escort couldn’t be working with the rebellion? She didn’t have the balls for that. God, did she miss roasting Arabella with Magnolia. That had been really funny.

“Yes, she’s one of our Capitol spies,” said Blight. “We’re also in contact with District Thirteen, which wasn’t actually wiped out as the Capitol lets us believe. They’re alive and well. Well, those of them who weren’t blown up, at least.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed. Everyone knew that Thirteen had been bombed to the ground, as a warning from the Capitol to what they did when one of the districts disobeyed. How could it be that all this time they were fine? While the rest of the districts were forced to suffer? Johanna hated them already, if not only because they had escaped the Games.

“It’s true,” said Blight seriously. Johanna was gobsmacked at the information – it seemed impossible – but Blight wasn’t exactly known for his jokes. “Most of the district survived the bombing. They went underground – they were lucky they had the facilities to do so, or else they would have all died. But District Thirteen wasn’t in charge of granite – they manufactured nuclear weapons. The underground part of the district, where they now live, used to be a military base. They made a deal with the Capitol to ignore each other, and they kept up their production of military and nuclear weapons.”

Nuclear weapons? Johanna hated District Thirteen even more now. They could have bombed the Capitol, if what Blight said was true. So why didn’t they? They could have stopped the Games! Thousands of kids could have been saved from horrible, senseless deaths! Maybe, if Thirteen had stepped in before, her family could still be alive. If Johanna had never gone to the Games – she wouldn’t have ended up killing Melon Man – and Snow would have spared her loved ones. Rage pulsed through her body, bubbling like lava, and Johanna took a deep breath, trying to control her anger and her despair. “Why didn’t they help us? They could have stopped this long ago.”

“They weren’t strong enough to overcome the Capitol, and –“

Johanna jumped to her feet. “They had nuclear weapons!” she shrieked. “Of course they could have overthrown the Capitol!”

“Johanna, you have to keep it down,” Blight hissed anxiously, looking around. He sighed. “I wish they had done something earlier too.” He didn’t even care! Johanna wanted to smack him. “But they’re helping us now and that’s what matters most.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Johanna asked, crossing her arms and kicking a rock with ferocity. She wished Magnolia was here to tell her about all this, instead of Blight.

“We need you to help us too,” Blight replied. “You’re young, and strong, and angry. You’re an actress. You have a reason to take them down.”

Johanna rolled her eyes. She was sure they didn’t care about that. There were plenty of Victors, apparently, who met all those criteria – if that was all they wanted, they didn’t need her. No, they wanted her because her family was dead and she therefore had no-one to hold her back, no reason to _not_ do everything they asked of her. _Well, fuck that,_ she thought. “And I have no-one left to stop me, right? That’s why you want me.”

Blight sighed. “Partially,” he admitted.

“I knew it!” Johanna exclaimed, and flipped him off. “Fuck you, Blight. You’re a terrible actor.”

A hint of a smile played on Blight’s lips. “Would you like to join?”

“What kind of fucking question is that?” Johanna scoffed. “Of course I do.” Johanna thought of all the horrors the Capitol had done. They had forced her to kill people. They killed her family. They killed Magnolia. And they killed Eurydice. For that, they would pay. “Snow’s going to pay for what he did to me,” she said, and smiled. “I want his blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the second last chapter ;---; oof
> 
> also. my sister was unmuted on zoom and i was annoying her and SHE TOLD ME TO SHUT THE FUKC UP AND HER WHOLE CLASS HEARD LMAOOOOOO I AM DYING omfg bhfedhobjbjhflaurfyquwhfbjjdwouy


	48. Contagious Energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TIME SKIP TO THE 75th
> 
> Johanna makes a promise, to herself and to the people she used to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: The Great Gig in the Sky by Pink Floyd
> 
> THIS IS IT, THIS IS THE FUCKIN SONG, PLEASE I SWEAR THIS IS JUST JOHANNA’S SONG. IT JUST FITS OKAY, PLEASE YOU HAVE TO LISTEN OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IT’S JOHANNA gbihbfgefigbigevGYGASVFIGVFDHVBGGHFDASGY9YBU8gbhhbidg9YB8GVYBHF

**Capitol, Tributes Centre, District Seven’s Penthouse: after the chariot rides of the 75 th Games**

“Johanna,” Blight said, knocking on her door and poking his head in.

“What?” Johanna asked, looking up from the book she was reading.

Blight raised his eyes and then looked away when he saw that she was stark naked, and Johanna smirked at his discomfort. “Our mutual friend has asked us to join them for a drink. We’re to talk to the Flower Lady on the way.”

She understood that to be Plutarch. She had no idea who the Flower Lady was, however, and from the look on Blight’s face he didn’t either. Fucking Haymitch, even when he _wasn’t_ blackout drunk he didn’t make sense. “Are we even allowed out?”

“We may be tributes, but we were Victors first,” said Blight.

Johanna rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t really answer my question, but okay. Who’s coming?”

“Pretty much everyone except the Careers, the Fives, and the Nines.” By Careers, of course, he didn’t mean the Fours or Lyme, who didn’t act like a typical Career Victor anyway.

“Pussies,” Johanna muttered. She didn’t like the District Nine Victors any more than she had on her Victory Tour three years ago. “Where are we going?”

Blight shrugged. “Just a bar,” he said, and went to walk out of the room before doubling back, looking Johanna very pointedly in the eyes. “Maybe you should put some clothes on.”

“Ugh,” Johanna said, and threw a shoe at him, but he closed the door before it could hit him. She pulled on a mostly see-through dress, just to spite him, and solid boots which were very good for kicking people in the balls, she had discovered.

“Really?” Blight said, raising his eyebrows when he saw her.

Johanna blinked innocently. “What? I’m wearing clothes.”

“Barely.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Blight sighed, and looked at his watch. “We’ll be late. We’re meeting Oscar there.” Oscar was their mentor – not that they needed much mentoring. Jamie had passed away a little while after the 73rd Games. He had a heart attack. Johanna couldn’t say she missed him, but the Victor’s Village was a lot quieter now there was only three of them, plus Alyssa and whichever girl or guy happened to be Oscar’s latest fuck buddy. But soon, of course, there would probably only be Oscar.

They headed outside and got into a waiting car, which took them through the city, far away from the Tributes’ Centre. Johanna wondered again where they were going, but didn’t want to ask – not while they were in the probably-bugged car. Besides, Blight probably didn’t know.

The car pulled up beside a dingy-looking bar, its fluorescent sign flickering and looking as though it were about to die. For a Capitol bar, its lack of quality was surprising. Johanna couldn’t say she liked the look of the place, but maybe it would be better inside. “Have you been here before?”

“No.”

They walked into the bar, and one of the two bartenders gestured for them to come over. _The Flower Lady,_ Johanna thought, noticing the purple flower tattoos that covered the entirety of the woman’s arms. Her nametag said ‘Farrin’, which was probably the most normal-sounding name of any Capitolite she’d ever met. She looked normal too, and could have passed for a district-born if it weren’t for the tattoos. “Fine evening, isn’t it?”

“Spectacular,” agreed Blight.

Farrin smiled pleasantly. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“I’ll take a Sunset Rendezvous,” said Johanna. The bar was empty, except for two people on different sides of the room, who weren’t even drinking anything. Johanna realised that the bar must be a front, and felt a rush of excitement.

The drink name was one of their codes, along with ‘spectacular’ – out of context, they wouldn’t mean anything. Which meant they couldn’t be accused of anything, not that anyone in the bar looked especially suspicious. But Farrin nodded to them. She had understood. “Upstairs, first door,” she said in a conversational tone. She looked at Johanna. “You go first.”

Johanna nodded to her, and made her way upstairs, leaving Blight at the bar. Pushing open the door, Johanna walked into the room, grinning at her fellow Victors. Mags, Finnick and Meredith all smiled at her. The Eights, the Elevens, the Tens, the Sixes, the Threes, and Haymitch were all there, as well as Plutarch and a few Capitols Johanna didn’t recognise. “Blight’s on his way,” Johanna said.

“Excellent. We’ll start when he gets here,” Plutarch said.

Johanna took a seat next to Finnick. “Loved the costume,” he whispered.

“Shut up, Fish Face,” she said, smacking him on the arm. “At least I wasn’t _naked._ ”

“Come on, children,” Meredith teased. “Play nice.”

Blight entered the room and sat next to Bobbie Boags from Eight, and Plutarch cleared his throat. “Let’s jump right in,” he said. “There is a plot to break some of you, but especially Katniss Everdeen, out of the arena.” _Wow, he really is jumping right in,_ thought Johanna.

There were several gasps from around the room, and Johanna was just about to whisper to Finnick when the Gamemaker raised his hand, beckoning for quiet. “Katniss, as you all know, is our top priority, and we will need you to be prepared to die so she can live.”

A rush of anger went through Johanna’s body. She had fought for her life, and now she had to give it up for some stupid kid, who probably didn’t even know about the brewing rebellion? Johanna thought that was kind of shitty. “What do you mean we have to save Everbitch?” she demanded.

Plutarch shrugged. “It’s a necessary sacrifice.” He was being so incredibly flippant about the whole thing. Johanna felt like punching him. How dare he say that their deaths were necessary, after all they had done for the rebellion? For him? How dare he act as if they were disposable, like used tissues?

“Yeah, says you, Heavensbee,” she sneered. “You’ve never been in the Games. You’ve lived here your whole life. You’ve never had to experience what it’s like in there.”

“Which is exactly why this is so necessary,” Plutarch said calmly, not rising to Johanna’s taunts, which only made her madder. “Snow is going to use this to his advantage. Katniss was never going to get away with what she did – and a good portion of you in here have done things that Snow isn’t happy with. Snow thinks that the Quell will be the perfect opportunity to eliminate not only Katniss, but also you. Finnick. Johanna. Grace. Chaff.”

“Haven’t we been punished enough?” Grace asked, echoing Johanna’s thoughts. She was one of the newer Victors – she had won the year after Johanna.

“You know what the answer is,” Haymitch said before Plutarch could reply. Grace sighed, and looked down at her hands.

Johanna shook her head, annoyed. Why wasn’t everyone more upset? “My main question is, why should I lay down my life for Coal Brat and Baker Boy?”

“Katniss is the spark we’ve been waiting for,” said Plutarch. “She’s the one that’s going to build a wildfire.”

“Can you stop being poetic for one second and get to the point?” Johanna asked snidely.

Plutarch sighed. “Katniss is the one who will inspire the revolution.”

Cecelia frowned. “But how do you know?” Cecelia had three kids – one of whom was only a baby. Johanna couldn’t help but be reminded of Marin and Minnow whenever she looked at Cecelia, so she generally tried to avoid the kind woman from Eight.

“I don’t. I don’t know. But she’s the best chance we have. That’s why we have to get her out of the arena.”

“What do you think people saw, when Katniss gave Peeta those berries?” Haymitch asked. “Do you think they saw a lovesick little girl? Or do you think they saw someone who dared to go against what was expected of her? Who dared to defy the Capitol?”

“I think they saw rebellion,” said Johanna, thinking of how she had felt when she saw Katniss hold out those berries. “I know they did, because that’s what I saw, and I’m never wrong.”

“Wiress and I will take down the forcefield, using my foolproof wire as well as the arena to our advantage. We will make it look as though we are only trying to kill the Careers, but really, we will be tearing down the arena’s defences.”

“After that, Thirteen is going to send a hovercraft to get as many of you out of the arena as possible.”

“What about mentors?” Finnick asked, taking Meredith’s hand. She smiled at him sadly, and Johanna wondered what she knew. She’d been very quiet the whole meeting, which was unusual for Meredith.

“We will try to get the mentors out as well, but there aren’t any promises. Katniss is, as I said, our first priority, and everyone else will have to come second.”

“I don’t like that,” Buck said, “but I understand.”

“We will try as hard as we can to get everyone out, but understand that it’s unlikely we’ll manage that. The Capitol will be attacking us with full force once they realise what we’re doing, and we have to get Katniss out before anything happens to her or to the arena. We may only have a short window to work in.”

“No. It’s alright,” Meredith said. “Get Katniss out. She’s the most important person we have right now.” There were several murmured agreements.

“Well, who else is in?” Plutarch asked, and he was met with a chorus of agreements. Most people couldn’t agree fast enough, even if they knew what it would mean for them.

Seeder spoke first, her usually quiet voice strong, determined. Johanna realised that she was probably thinking of last year’s Rue, who had been her great-niece. “Me.”

“I’ll do it. For the kids,” said Finnick. “Snow’s never going to harm another child ever again.”

“Let’s kill that piece of shit!” Grace shouted, raising her fists into the air, copying the familiar gesture of victorious Twos. The excited crowd cheered, and for a moment there was chaos – Johanna revelled in it. Beautiful, passionate chaos, individuals united with the same contagious energy. When it died down, Johanna realised that Finnick was looking at her. As was Mags. And Meredith. And Blight. And everyone. She realised they were waiting for her to answer.

“Johanna?” Finnick asked, looking at her with eyes full of fire. 

Johanna knew a girl who had eyes like that, once. Clear blue eyes, the colour of the sky and the colour of ice. Eyes that were as clear as day and yet burned with the power of a sun. Johanna didn’t even have to think. She smiled. 

“I’m going to watch Snow burn. We’re going to make him pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck. Holy fuck? It’s done. What the hell.
> 
> Yeah. Okay. Um, I kinda don’t know what to do with myself now. I’m going to step away for a second and then I’m going to finish writing this end note.
> 
> 0o0o
> 
> Okay, I’m back.
> 
> I have absolutely loved writing this. I love Johanna, I love the politics and the passion and all the characters of Suzanne Collins’ world, and I have loved interacting with all of you beautiful people especially.
> 
> I have so much to say but I can’t think of any of it. Thank you to every single person who has read, reviewed, followed, favourited, left kudos. I love you all so much and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the support.
> 
> Thank you especially to Starlight_Wren and darth_nell, over at AO3, and to Tracelynn, Red Sting, Goldilocks775, writinficsandbreakinhearts, and AmeliaOdair over at FFnet, who have all been here since pretty much the start. Love you guys.
> 
> I’m going to miss writing this, and talking to all of you, so so so much. But this isn’t the last of Johanna Mason. I have a few little thingies in mind and I don’t know when the hell I’ll actually get around to writing them, but this isn’t the end, I promise.
> 
> Okay. I’m going to go cry now.
> 
> I love you all so much, and a million thanks.
> 
> Have a great day/night/life!
> 
> -Audrey :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I've never posted work to Ao3 before, so this is kinda new. I apologise for any mistakes because I'm not yet familiar with this website, but bear with me! I'll learn.  
> This story is also posted on FF.net, along with some other stuff.  
> Let me know what you think, or don't, that's cool :)  
> Have a great day/night!


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